For the Love of an Elf
by Just Curious
Summary: When a young Elf loses her brother and comes close to dying herself, what else can she do but fall in love? However, the best made plans of Elves and Men can go awry...
1. Yaluumesse

Welcome, Chaps and Chapesses! This is a slight A/U fic, though I have tried to stick to some semblance of the story. I respect the rights of purists to have a cow, because usually I am one of them. :D 

Please accept my humble apologies for this, and plush Haldir toys for those who are upset! Umm… I think that is all.

Oh, and flamers will be laughed at, then used to make S'mores, which I have heard of but never had, being and Aussie. So there you go.

****

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Lord of the Rings. If I did, then this would probably be in the story, so I wouldn't have to stick it on FF.net. But I am trying to buy the rights to Rúmil though…

~

Yaluumesse…

It was midnight. An owl sounded out its call as the moon shone down on the plains. The animals had settled for the night, all of them safe and warm in their homes, with no idea of the troubles they were about to face. For far away in the land of Mordor a huge battle was about to take place, one that would decide the fate of Middle-Earth. An army of Men, Elves, Hobbits and Dwarves had formed to fight against the Maia Sauron, Lord of Mordor and ruler of The One Ring, and his army of Orcs. He attacked Middle-Earth with the intention of destroying all that was good and true, and bending the creatures of this land to his will. Yet this peril was far from the minds of all the creatures of the plains, save one.

Running swiftly across the plains a dark figure went. This creature knew of the troubles of Middle-Earth, and was determined to do everything in its power to destroy evil. Quickly the Elf ran, looking neither to the right nor left as he sped on, focusing only of arriving at Mordor in time to help. He reached the edge of the plain, and disappeared from view.

The owl hooted again, and all was silent.

~

It was Gimli's turn for watch. Grumbling he paraded around the camp in the Morgul-vale, his eyes peeled and alert. He stalked back past his fire again, where all his companions were seated. Noticing the Dwarf, Aragorn smiled and called out to him. "Hello there Dwarf! Have we seen anything unusual yet?" He queried. Gimli shook his head. 

"No, not a beast stirs on such a foul and dangerous night, knowing that Gimli son of Glóin is on patrol." Gimli stated, swiping his axe menacingly. 

A soft laugh accompanied this boast. "Aye, no creature is that unwise!" Legolas smiled at his friend, laughing. "Indeed I would not dare come within 6 leagues of you myself if you were in a foul temper with me!" 

Aragorn laughed. "No, me neither! I have not the lack of brains to do something so foolish."

"I believe I once did, over the matter of the Lady of the Light, and we have yet to settle that quarrel Gimli." Éomer laughed. 

"Then you indeed are stupid, Éomer. To challenge a Dwarf with an axe? And on a matter of beauty? No one with half a brain would do such a foolhardy act."

"True, but Orcs are not known for their intelligence. We must be ever vigilant, for it will not be more than 6 sunsets before we arrive there and attack, and our boasts will do little against their hoards." Gandalf cautioned, arriving in the circle. "Therefore we must continue to keep our watch, Gimli son of Glóin." Gandalf frowned at the Dwarf, who muttered in return and turned to stalk off. As he did so, Legolas leapt up from his seat, and drawing an arrow from his quiver, he set it against his bow with one swift movement and aimed it into the dark of the night. 

"Make yourself known, for I know that you are there!" He called. The others in the company turned and looked at Legolas, and then into the night, but could see no movement. 

"Legolas, are you sure…" Éomer started to speak, when from the inky blackness of the night, in the direction that Legolas's arrow was pointing at a dark figure emerged, draped in a cloak. Slowly walking forward with its hands in the air, the creature came into the full view of the campfire. "An Elf!" Pippin exclaimed, for he was always surprised at these strange folk. It was none other than the figure that had fled across the plains less than two eves ago.

"Take of your cloak and hat!" Legolas demanded, but the Elf shook its head. It walked closer though, and pulled its hat off its face and let it rest on its hair, which was hidden. "What is your name and business, stranger?" Legolas directed. The strange Elf continued to say nothing. 

"Speak, or I will tickle your voicebox with my axe!" Gimli growled, moving forward with his axe raised. At this the figure trembled slightly, and started making frantic gestures, pointing to its throat, then shaking its head. 

"Can you not talk?" Gandalf inquired. The Elf grinned and did an awkward little dance, overjoyed at being understood. 

Pippin laughed at this exhibition. "You are obviously a friend, sir Elf, and yet I have never meet one of your kind with so ungraceful movements before." He laughed. The Elf shrugged, then smiled again. 

Gandalf looked at the Elf, it seemed so familiar… "So what is your name, strange Elf?" Legolas inquired. The Elf's eyes widened, then puckered into a frown. It tapped its finger against its chin, obviously trying to decide how to tell them. It ran forward, and picked up a lump of cold coal from a burnt out fire, then crushed the coal in its fist. Pointing to the remains, it then pointed to itself. 

"Coal?" Naurcom, a tall dark-haired Elf, guessed. The Elf frowned and shook its head. 

"Cinders?" Éomer queried, his suggestion also met with a shake of the head.

"Ash?" Legolas asked. The Elf once more burst out grinning, and danced around the fire, then fell in front of Legolas, dramatically bowing and paying homage to the bowelf. The group abounded with laughter, and watched as the Elf continued to 'worship' Legolas. 

Naurcom got up and stalked menacingly over to the Elf. There was something about this creature which he did not like. Pulling his sword out, he made as if to attack the Elf. "What is your business here Elf? Tell me now, or I will turn you into Orc feed!" 

Aragorn and Legolas rose immediately. "Put down your sword!" Aragorn demanded. "This Elf is obviously on our side, and swordplay will not happen in this camp unless it is against the Enemy! But," Aragorn turned to the Elf, "We do need to know why you are here." 

Ash nodded, keeping a wary eye on Naurcom's sword, which had not as yet been lowered. Ash took up a fighting stance, and then pretended to fight imaginary Orcs with sword and bow. As the Elf was play-acting, Ash went behind Naurcom and suddenly kicked his sword away from his hand, so that it fell point first into the ground behind him. Frowning, the Elf shook its head at Naurcom, then went up to shake his hand, Ash holding out his hand to Naurcom in a friendly manner. Naurcom, not pleased at being humiliated in front of his colleagues, looked down at Ash in disgust, and turned away. He picked up his sword and stalked off, not turning back. Ash sighed and slumped down into Naurcom's seat, chin in hands. Pippin came up behind the Elf and placed his hand on Ash's shoulder.

"Don't you be fretting now, Ash. Lord Naurcom takes a bit of getting used to, but he always comes up good in the end. As for you now, would you like a bit of tea to warm you up?" 

Ash looked into Pippin's kind face and felt warmer inside. Nodding, Ash followed Pippin to the fire and sat down next to him, listening to the Hobbit's chatter. 

"…when I first met Lord Naurcom I did nothing but shake all over, I did. He came to us but a few days ago, with a band of wanderers from who-knows-where. Oh apples, I am forgetting my manners. Pearl would have something to say about that, indeed she would. Don't you go forgettin' your manners, Peregrin Took, she would say, and here I have gone and done just that. My name is Peregrin, but you can call me Pippin, and this here is the remainder of the fellowship. There was nine of us, but Boromir died… and Frodo and Sam are trying to sneak past the big flaming eye-thingy in order to save Middle-Earth and Merry…" Here Pippin's voice trailed off. "Merry wasna able to come with us, he was… he was injured." 

Ash watched as Pippin thoughts faded somewhere else, millions of leagues away. Suddenly he snapped back and shook his head and grinned. "Sorry, me mind has a tendency to run away with itself. Anyway, I'm Pippin."

Ash shook Pippin's hand and he grinned. "And since ye canna talk, I'll introduce you for yeself. You're Ash, Elf of unknown origins and disturber of Naurcom." He laughed, and Ash smiled widely. _Yes, that is exactly who I am_.

Pippin then turned as he introduced the others. "Well, this here foolish and far to curious hobbit is meself, Pippin. Then you have King Aragorn and Lord Naurcom, who you already have met, in sorts, and this is King Éomer of the Riddermark. Over at the other fire you can see the sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir…"

__

Elrond's sons are here? Then I truly must be careful.

"… and this is Gandalf the Wise, and a very nice Wizard he is to." Pippin grinned sheepishly.

"I thank you for the compliment, Master Perigrin." Gandalf spoke as he shook Ash's hand, noting that Ash would not meet his eye. Gandalf found this odd, and continued the introductions in place of Pippin.

"The Dwarf over here, who is meant to be on watch mind you, is Gimli, son of Glóin, a most ferocious Dwarf. This Elf, who you might know of, is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood." As soon as he said that, Ash leapt up, and stood there, mouth open. Eyes blinking, Ash suddenly bowed deeply to Legolas, much to the shock of all. Many times Ash bowed, over and over, whilst Legolas sat there, turning a deep shade of red. 

"It is to Aragorn and Éomer you should be bowing to, not me." Legolas murmured, trying to stop the bowing Elf. Yet Ash continued to bow, and in doing so a pendant on a leather necklace, or a nelanthè in Elvish, fell out of Ash's shirt. At the end of this nelanthè was a pendant, which all Elves possess. They are a personalised pendant, and each individual one has magic linked to it, for the pendant glows with the change of the wearer's emotions. As the Elf becomes angry, scared or hurt, the pendant glows a harsh blue, but if the Elf is joyful or in love, it glows a soft and warm blue. Ash's pendant was glowing a faint but harsh blue, showing Ash was disturbed by Legolas' identity.

Being used to seeing these pendants, indeed wearing one himself, Legolas was not concerned at its presence. To Gandalf though, it was a huge shock. He knew that pendant, indeed it must… no, it cannot possibly… yet no two pendants are the same, so it must be…

Standing up, Gandalf stretched. "The fire is going down, and I fear there is little wood left. Come, Ash, we find some means of a fire together in this desolate land." He turned and left the group. Ash gulped silently, and followed the wizard.

~

They walked along the cliff-face silence, collecting debris and branches they found. Ash refused to look at Gandalf, and silence hung thick between them for quite some time. 

"Shall I go first or you?" Gandalf inquired. Ash remained silent. Gandalf frowned. "Does your mother know you are here, Lady Ashlieth?" He asked.

Ash sighed. "I knew I could not keep it from you Gandalf. No, mother does not know I have come to fight, and she is not to find out!" Ashlieth declared stubbornly. 

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "I see. And your father, has he any clue to your whereabouts?" 

"Father could not care less Gandalf, both you and I know that. He cares not a fig for me, especially since Meneldil died."

Gandalf frowned, there was no reason to deny it. Meneldil had always been his father's favorite, and his recent death had greatly affected Anárion. The noble death of his son…

__

"Father, you are wrong!" Meneldil bellowed at Anárion, his fist slamming against the long oak table. "To ignore the threat of Sauron and the Ring is foolhardy!"

"He poses no danger to us, Meneldil." Anárion calmly replied.

"Take a look at your map, Father!" Meneldil cried. "First it will be Rohan , Gondor and then he will find Gondolin! Already there are numerous foes scouting in the Echoriath, waiting to find the secret path! We have but days left, and you continue to ignore them!" Meneldil despaired over his father indifference towards the lives of his people. "Send out a small army Father." Meneldil pleaded. "I will lead them, we can stop them now and afterwards move on to join with Rohan and Gondor-" 

Meneldil was cut off by Anárion leaping to his feet, enraged. "I will not hear of you helping that Steward! They deserves not our help, let Denethor protect Gondor alone!" He spat, his face turning blood red with rage.

"And if he fails and Middle Earth is taken over, what then? We will be dead, thanks to your own stubbornness! Sauron will control Gondolin as much as the rest of Middle Earth, and he will kill us all!" Meneldil yelled, staring at his father. Anárion said nothing, just sat back down. 

"I will not allow you to go." He said simply. 

Meneldil stared long and hard at his father, then slowly drew himself up to his full height, his countenance transforming into one of a warrior. "Then I leave without your blessing." He declared quietly. 

Anárion started to rise. "You leave, and you relinquish your claim to Guardianship of Gondolin." He warned.

Meneldil sent Anárion a piercing stare. "I know." He stated, then turned and left the room, Anárion thundering after him. 

"Meneldil! MENELDIL!" He roared, but his son had left. 

Meneldil departed quickly, taking with him a small company of loyal soldiers. They would first ride to Rohan, and see if any help was needed there, before riding on to Gondor. Briefly farewelling his mother, Meneldil and Ashlieth walked out to his horse together. 

"Ashlieth-" Meneldil paused. "Tuilindelle, this is war. I do not know if I will come back alive-" He was cut off by Ashlieth protesting voice. 

"You will! You have to!" She told him. 

Meneldil held up a hand for silence. "I do not know if I will come back alive, I do not know if I will be able to protect you from Father anymore. Promise me you will stand up to him. Do not allow him to control your life, or force you to do anything you do not want to. Do not let him hurt you! Always do what you believe is right!" He stared at her, his eyes full of concern. "Promise me Tuilindelle!" 

Ashlieth stood silent, the though of standing up to her father a terrifying one. 

"Lle vesta Tuilindelle?"*

Ashlieth nodded. "I promise Meneldil, and" she added, "I will take care of Mother also." She added, before Meneldil could make that request of her. 

A slight smile broke over Meneldil's grim features. "Ah, my sister. I will miss you." 

"Then come back quickly!" Ashlieth replied, her voice straining to sound cheery. 

"I will." He said, a sad smile on his face. He bent and kissed the top of her head lightly. "Farewell." He swung up onto his horse and waved to her. Ashlieth waved back, tears streaming down her face and he turned and rode off. 

"I love you Meneldil!" She cried out.

"I love you, my sister!" He yelled back over his shoulder, the head of his troops, a proud and noble warrior. 

The victory at the Echoriath's was brace and swift, but the small luck they had was not to hold. Meneldil died during the battle at Helm's Deep, showing bravery and honor in his final moments. Many were stricken with grief when they saw the great Prince fall, surrounded by Uruk-hai and wounded in a score of places. After killing a score of Uruks, the Prince was caught unaware as a cold blade rammed into his stomach, and Meneldil stood there gasping, shock written on his fine features. Elves and Men alike saw him slowly tug a white handkerchief out of his pocket, and stare at it, running the linen between his fingers. Then he clenched it in his fist and threw himself into the fray, roaring like a madbeast, screaming names of those he loved. Names like Ashlieth, Niamh, Anárion, and one that was unfamiliar to them all escaped his lips as he died…. "TÁRINIA!"

Gandalf shook himself out of his thoughts as Ashlieth continued.

"He cares for no one, not even mother now. He just wishes to gain his immortality, he spends hours pouring over his books, trying to find the secret."

"So, the Guardian has not yet found it?" Gandalf inquired.

"No. He has been able to prolong his life manyfold by drinking a special potion, but the ingredients are becoming harder to find, and it is not enough for him to prolong his life, he wants it endless." Ashlieth sighed. Anárion

Gandalf furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. Almost three thousand years ago Anárion, younger son of Elendil, brother to Isildur, had fought against Sauron in the last Alliance between Men and Elves. And he was thought slain in the siege of Barad-dúr, and in the heat of battle his body was lost and Elendil and Isildur left, heavy-hearted. Unknown to most, Anárion survived and disappeared for many centuries, allowing his hate for his brother and his father to boil within him.

Years later he married the Lady Niamh, sister to Olwë , Elmo and King Thingol. Knowing of the Elves immortality, Anárion married Niamh in order to discover the secret, believing it had to do with the Elves blood, and use it for himself. Anárion, though a cold man, was a brilliant alchemist, and after spending many years studying Niamh's blood, discovered part of her makeup that was different to humans, and was able to use his potions to prolong his life. He had sired two children, Meneldil, his son and the only thing he cared about, and a daughter, Ashlieth, both of them half Elvish, yet granted immortality.

Gandalf shook his head. Immortality was a dangerous thing, not to be trifled with, especially for Men. He sighed, then placed his focus back on Ashlieth. 

"So then Missy, why are you here?" Gandalf asked sternly.

"I told you, I want to fight the Orcs. Please, Gandalf, don't make me go back, it is awful at home, I can't stand it. Please, I want to fight, I want to help Middle-Earth. I couldn't stand it if became overrun with evil. All this beauty gone." She flung her arms wide with exuberance. "Please Gandalf. Father kept on saying how much better his life would be if he had one fighter to 'carry on his bloodline'. I know I can't please him, but… I want to try." She finished softly. 

"I cannot allow you to do something so foolish as to fight in this battle." He told her. Ashlieth lowered her eyes. 

"Maybe I am a fool, but I am a fool with nothing left. Only the desire to free the land I have loved." Slowly Ashlieth lifted her eyes. "Please Gandalf."

Gandalf scowled as she stared pleadingly at him. "Please? Can't we just let the others believe that I am a mute male Elf named Ash? Please?" she begged. 

Gandalf harumphed loudly. "Alright Ash, button your mouth and let us collect firewood." 

Ash cheered and did a little dance of delight, her mouth sealed again. Peering around her, she quickly threw her arms around Gandalf. "Thanks you so much." She said. 

Gandalf hugged her back. "That's alright missy, I could never stand up to you anyway." Ash grinned, and then turned to collect firewood. Her pendant shone a soft blue due to her happiness. She was going to fight in the war! She grinned and bent to collect a piece of wood. 

They continued in silence for quite some time, when Gandalf stood back up and frowned. "There is one point that concerns me, Ashlieth. Naurcom." 

Ashlieth sighed. "I know, that concerns me also, yet he cannot find out that it is me, it would just be to… uncomfortable. It would create more problems than it is worth."

"Yet to hide such a thing to one's betrothed…" Gandalf left the sentence hanging, noting the displeasure on Ashlieth's face. 

"Yes, my betrothed, the light of my life, the one who I care about most in Middle-Earth." Ashlieth said, her voice thick with sarcasm. "Well, that's what father wants me to think at least. Father and Naurcom are cut from the same cloth, both of them think of no one but themselves." Ashlieth finished, frowning. They continued on for a while, walking and thinking. "I don't love him Gandalf. I don't like him, I don't even respect him. What kind of life will that be? 

Gandalf said nothing, but his grey eyes held sympathy for the Elf, and Ashlieth knew he would not tell Naurcom. Though displeased with being found out, she was glad she had someone to talk to, for she would be doing very little talking for the next few days. 

~

"Rúmil, I want you to meet a new friend of ours," Legolas brought Ash up to the front of the group. "Rúmil, this young elf is Ash. Ash, I want you to meet one of our best archers, the most skilled bow elf in Middle Earth, Rúmil. I am placing you under his leadership from now on, you can learn much from him." And I do not wish to see one so young and naive come to harm. Legolas added silently. Rúmil good-naturedly punched Legolas in the arm. 

"Ignore him, Master Ash. Legolas can use a bow better than any other elf I know, he has won many a competition against me-"

"With no help from your cheating!"

"Me? Cheat?" Rúmil looked at Ash in a horrified manner. "Legolas, I am ashamed to know you think that! I was merely… guiding your bow." 

"Guiding! You hit it as I fired!" Legolas protested strongly, trying to keep from laughing.

"No, no, no, that was your hand shaking! You're no telella*, Legolas. Just grow old with grace and do not blame your faults on others." Rúmil pacified him, his eyes dancing with mirth. Legolas made as if to strangle him, and soon both Elves were mock-fighting, with exaggerated blows and tumbles.

"Oww! You have my hair! Let go!"

"You bit me! Girl!"

"Haha! Die, mortal!" Legolas threw Rúmil down in victory.

"Arrg! I am wounded! Have mercy, oh mighty Prince!" Rúmil pleaded as he grasped a "wound" on his chest. Legolas, in a very dignified and regal air, offered his hand to 'the mere mortal' and helped him up. Both friends stared at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing, tears streaming down their faces as a bewildered Ash stared on. 

__

'Is this really the somber Prince of Mirkwood my mother has such great respect for? And who is this Rúmil? Why is he so easy-going, for I have never met such a teasing elf before, and in such times of trouble, in such a fearsome place. Look, many of the men dare to smile because of him. Surely he is a rare elf.'

"Ash, it is a pleasure to meet you, I feel it will be a great pleasure having you around." Rúmil held out his hand and grinned, and Ash shook it, his warm smile showing the honesty in his words. Yet he grew confused as Ash said nothing in return.

"Ash is mute, Rúmil." Legolas explained, seeing Rúmil's confusion. 

"Oh, I am so sorry. Maybe, when this is over, the Lady of the Light may heal you, or indeed Elrond too is a mighty healer. But I do confess that I find my Lady's healing touch much more pleasant than the strictness of Elrond." Rúmil confessed, his eyes still merry. 

__

'Does he never lose that cheerfulness?' Ash wondered as Legolas sniffed the air.

"I fear I smell Gimli burning dinner, and I hear Aragorn's wrath at another charcoal meal. Come, let us rescue him before Aragorn decides to eat Gimli for the evening meal!" Legolas smiled.

Rúmil laughed at the thought of Gimli on a plate with an apple in his mouth, then ran off after Legolas, with Ash jogging behind.

~*~

As the days passed on, Ash became more and more at ease around the Fellowship, finding a particular friendship with Rúmil, Legolas and Pippin. Rúmil and Pippin were such fun, always laughing and dancing with her, and doing silly play-acting as well. It was during one of these plays that her lack of weapons was first noticed. 

She was walking behind a sulking Naurcom, imitating him much to the delight of Pippin. As she did so, Naurcom spun around and placed the tip of his sword under her chin. "I have had enough of you, Master Elf. You are brave enough behind my back, but let us see how you fight man to man!" Ash's eyes widened, and then she shrugged her shoulders and indicated that she had no weapons. 

"No weapons!" Pippin exclaimed. "Well, that must be fixed immediately! Come on Master Ash, let's get you all fixed up! We'll go see Aragorn!" Pippin grabbed her by the hand and whisked her away, leaving Naurcom glowering at her back.

Aragorn was astounded. "No weapons? Then how, in the name of Rivendell, did you expect to do any good in the battle? Ward Orcs off with your funny antics? Challenge them to a silence competition? This was most unwise Ash!" He said sternly. Ash's head and shoulders dropped in despair, and Aragorn softened. "Come, little Elf, we will take you to our meager supply of weapons and between Legolas and myself, we should be able to fit you for a weapon or two. Come." Aragorn strode off, with Ash following behind him.

After finding Legolas they went to a small cart, filled with weapons of every sort. Ash was amazed, she had never seen such beautifully crafted weapons before. There were swords, daggers, bows, axes and many types of shields. Her eyes were wide, and she was truly amazed at the awe-inspiring weapons. 

"I think our Elf friend likes what he sees." Aragorn smiled. "Come Ash, what weapons are you most comfortable with?" He watched as Ash looked around, then picked up a beautiful bow, testing it for its flexibility and strength. Legolas nodded in approval. 

"That is indeed a fine bow you have chosen, yet I believe that this one may be more suited to your strength" He reached over and picked up a lighter bow. "This one will allow the arrows to fly faster and more true, yet it is light and durable. Try it." Legolas held it out to Ash. She walked over and took it from the Elf, still humbled to be in his presence. Taking it quickly, she held it up and smiled. Indeed this bow was much more to her liking, it felt more like an extension of her arm, as though it weighed nothing at all. Ash nodded furiously, indicating that she liked that bow, and was about to leave when Aragorn stopped her. 

"A moment Ash, a bow needs arrows to shoot with, and you also need weapons incase of close combat." He added, passing Ash a quiver of arrows. Blushing, Ash accepted them from him, then turned to a bundle of small swords. Taking up a dirk, with the blade being the length of her elbow to the tip of her fingers, she brandished it about the room, and feeling pleased with her choice, she nodded. 

"A wonderful choice, Elf. I would have chosen that one for you myself." Aragorn agreed. "Now let us see how accomplished you are with these weapons," Aragorn started, but was interrupted by Pippin, who had run into the room. 

"Strider, Gandalf says he must speak to you at your earliest convenience, which I believe means now by the way he was huffin' and puffin' and boomin'." He spoke. Aragorn frowned. 

"Alright, I am on my way. Legolas, take Ash out to the training grounds." He spoke, and Legolas nodded. Aragorn then left the tent, striding after Pippin.

Legolas turned to Ash. "Come, show me your talent on the battlefield." He smiled, then lead a nervous Ash from the cart towards a small cliff. 

Once they got there, Legolas pointed out a boulder a good distance away. "See the stump which rest near that boulder? Hit the knot in the middle." Legolas told her. 

Ash nodded, slightly concerned, but she knew she could get close… she hoped. Taking an arrow from her quiver, she set it against her bow, aimed quickly, then let it fly across the field, hitting the knot slightly to the left side. Legolas nodded, please with the shot. 

"May I?" He asked Ash.

Ash nodded, and handed him the bow and quiver. Taking three arrows, Legolas fired them off in rapid succession, taking very little time to aim. Ash watched them carefully, wondering what he was doing. The first arrow struck the very dead center of the knot, which caused Ash's eyes to widen. The second flew and hit the exact spot where Ash's had struck, slicing her arrow neatly in two, and the third flew and struck the ground right between Gimli's legs, who had been walking up to them. Ash's eyes were like saucers; she could not believe the skill of the Prince of Mirkwood. He grinned at her, and handed her bow back, satisfied with her reaction.

"Don't mind Legolas, he is very pleased with his skills. That is one of his old tricks, you will get used to his boastful nature in time." Gimli huffed, pulling the arrow out of the ground and handing it to Ash. "Our Prince here enjoys seeing the reaction of the folk of Middle-Earth when he scares them half to death, and yours was no exception, but I can say they you are a talented bowelf, so be pleased with your effort Ash." Gimli finished.

"That, Ash, is high praise indeed coming from Gimli. It took him many a month until he would admit the same of my bow skill. Although I have no reservation in saying that Gimli is too a skilled creature, his axe and I have come very close to meeting each other personally many times." Legolas bowed to Gimli, who roared with laughter.

"Aye, 'tis true. Many a time I have nearly scalped the Elf after being provoked."

"Yes, and much fun it is too!" Legolas agreed, laughing also. Ash looked on confused, how can an Elf and a Dwarf get on so well, the two cultures are rivals by nature. Ash finally gave up trying to figure this pair out. Some things just happen.

~

"I'm a free hobbit, not given to love or mushy stuff like that. It means when I go home I can 'roam' about, if ye know what I mean." Pippin winked at his friends, who laughed at the thought of Pippin, roaming. It was five nights since Ash had come to the Host of the West, and already she had grown to love the people she knew there.

"I also do not have the time, nor the patience for love." Éomer put in, slightly ruefully. 

"And what about you, Lord Naurcom?" Rúmil asked. "To whom is you heart given?" Ash pricked her ears up at this, and waited to see his reaction. Naurcom gulped down the last of his drink and wiped his mouth.

"Well, my heart is given to no singular women," Ash's eyebrows raised at this, "but if you are asking if I am engaged, then yes I am, and to a very fine Elf as well, and a pretty deal I got out of it." He finished, grinning as if proud of himself.

"That's not the only reason I am betrothed to her. This Elf, named… well, anyway, this Elf has long, curly hair, a dark red-brown in colour, she has a stunning body, and she loves me completely…" Naurcom paused as Ash had a fit of coughing. "And, well," he paused mischievously "I can tell you my bed will not be cold for quite some time afterwards. Here, as a friend I will make you all a proposition. When the time comes that I have finished with her I might let you all have a bit as well…" Naurcom was cut of as two arrows were held under his chin. 

Ash could stand it no longer, she was growling furiously at Naurcom, her entire body shaking in rage. How dare he offer her around like that, how dare he! She growled louder, and pushed the point of the arrow closer. Beside her, also with his arrow to Naurcom's chin, was Rúmil. 

"A female is a precious gift, how dare you insult you fiancée's honor like that! Love is a special and holy thing, and for you to think of her as naught but an item or object for you to conquer is a despicable and shameful action. Disgrace on you and the race of Men." Rúmil spat out through clenched teeth. Naurcom was shocked, he had never seen the usually cheerful Elf this angry and upset. His normally mischievous brown eyes were as dark as a raging storm, narrowed and as cold and harsh as the winter ice. Naurcom gulped.

"I am sorry Rúmil, I don't know what came over me, to much drink perhaps?" He offered, lifting his goblet. "Please forgive me." He asked. Rúmil glared at him, then lowered his arrow and strode off towards the cliffs. 

Ash also lowered her arrow, though not in peace. No, she felt that if she kept it there she might do some damage to him in anger, yet she never took her eyes off Naurcom, sending a piercing gaze his way. This disquieted Naurcom, who stood up and brushed passed her, muttering something about maps as he strode away. Ash stood there, silent, then also left, heading after Rúmil. Only the Pippin, Éomer and Gimli remained around the campfire.

"Was it something we said?" asked Pippin.

~

Ash found Rúmil sitting on a log beside the cliff-face. He held his chin in his hands and was staring into the horizon towards the black gates, face furrowed. Ash walked up and sat beside him, wondering what had upset him so, why he had rushed to defend her honor so quickly. They sat there in silence, the two Elves lost in their own thought. Finally Rúmil spoke up. "Men take for granted too many things. They are true to nothing, and they love no one but themselves." 

Ash shook her head, and held up one finger. 

"There is one, who?" Ash leapt up, and taking out her sword she stood tall and walked around, until Rúmil knew whom it was that she was talking about. "Aragorn? Yes 'tis true. He seems to be the only exception to the rule. It does my heart good to see him and Arwen in love." He smiled, then frowned again. "She gave up her immortality for him, you know Ash. Was that a wise decision?" He pondered. 

Ash nodded her head fervently, placing a hand on her heart. "For love, yes, I suppose so. Is there someone you love Ash?" Rúmil asked. 

Ash dropped her eyes and shook her head, no one could love a half human/half Elf like herself. She pointed to Rúmil, with a questioning look on her face. 

"Is there anyone I love?" He asked, then sighed. "No, there isn't. I too am destined to be a bachelor," He said, and gave an exaggerated sigh. "So it seems, then, that you and I will live on in utter loneliness, which may not be such a terrible thing." Rúmil mused. "At least I will never have children. I doubt Middle Earth could cope with more than one of my type, but I wish…" 

Rúmil was cut short when the sound of a horn blew from the camp. Rúmil leapt up and ran, calling out. "Run Ash, that is Aragorn calling us. There must be news of the Orcs." He cried. Ash leapt up and ran after him, could this be it?

~

A few seconds later they arrived at camp, and saw all of the warriors gathered around Aragorn and Naurcom, fear and concern blazing from the crowd. "Tell me, what has happened?" Rúmil cried as he pushed through the crowd, Ash close behind him. Aragorn looked at them, worry etched on his strong face. 

"Sauron's eye has moved, he has seen us advance. It is therefore time to strike against him, give the ringbearer his chance and strike against evil! We must go, boldly to the Black Gates, opened-eyed into Sauron's domain. Come men, now we fly! Take only what you need for battle and water. Leave all else behind. Quickly men!" Aragorn yelled. There was an instant flurry of activity, all creatures running to prepare themselves. 

Ash felt her heart in her mouth, she was about to fight! Hastily she ran to her campfire and grabbed her sword, her bow still in her hand. Placing the quiver of arrows on her back, and grabbing a water container, she ran back to the gathering area, her entire body tingling with excitement. 

When all had gathered, Aragorn pointed his sword in the direction of the Black gates. "Onwards!" He called, then swinging upon his horse he galloped off, and the army ran forward, brandishing swords and spears and yelling a fierce battle cry, the noise echoing off the surrounding cliff-face.

"Gurth gothrim lye!!!"* 

~

Many, many hours later they were still running, though without the vigor that they first had. Ash was exhausted, though she tried not to show it. She knew she could not keep it up for much longer without a break, and felt her limbs turn to water as she ran on. She was so tired she did not notice Rúmil riding beside her. "Ash!" He called. She turned her bleary eyes up at him and smiled. "Here," he beckoned, lowering his hand to hers, "my horse can take us both." He smiled at her, and gratefully she took his hand, swinging up behind him. She immediately relaxed, and lay her head on his back, completely worn out. Rúmil smiled, he was amazed this boy had made it so far, and he worried that Ash had not the stamina to endure the fight. Yet he could do little about it except watch over him. 

Three hours later they arrived at the Black gate. Just the sight of it made Ashlieth shiver in fear, the smell that came from within, the fear that hung upon the very air. The whole Host was silent, and all stood forlorn and chill in the grey light of early day before the towers and wall which they could not assault with hope. For a moment, all stood still and stared at the frowning Black gates. 

It was Aragorn who first broke the silence, and he arranged the host in such array as could best be contrived, and they stood on the Slag-hills, hills that had been created by Orcs after years of labour. 

Ash looked around nervously, and saw a boy named Timon beside her. She had met him before, and the two had walked together often. Timon was young, and was white and shaking with fear. On seeing Ash, he gulped and smiled tensely. "Are you ready for this Ash?" He asked. 

Ash nodded, hesitantly. 

He grinned. "No, me neither. But this isn't about us, it's for Middle-Earth, right?" He asked. Ash smiled. He was right; they did not matter, as long as Middle-Earth was saved. 

Ash's eyes widened as she watched the Captains ride forth towards the black gate with horsemen, holding banners high. Her breath caught in her thraot as she saw who was riding out, Gandalf, Aragorn, Naurcom, the Sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir, Éomer, King of Rohan and Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, Prince Legolas, Gimli, Pippin, and …

"Rúmil." Ash whispered, her breath catching in her throat. So soft was her whisper that no one heard it, even in the terrible silence of the moment, but for a brief second, Ash's heart was squeezed by a terrible force, and she clenched her hands to dull the pain as Aragorn began to speak.

"Come Forth! Let the Lord of the Blackland come forth! Justice shall be done upon him. For wrongfully he has made was upon Gondor and wrested its lands. Therefore the King of Gondor demands that he should atone for his evils, and depart then for ever. Come forth!"

The silence that followed was long and severe, and all peoples waited with baited breath. Yet the silence remained until the Captains moved to turn back, when with a great noise the Black Gates opened, revealing the Mouth of Sauron1 and his minions. 

Loud words followed, the contempt and malice of Sauron's Lieutenant showing in every gesture, every word, and every look that he gave. The strength of Aragorn demonstrated in his commands, the wisdom of Gandalf in his words, and the sound of Pippin's heart breaking as he was shown Sam's cloak and sword, and Frodo's mithril-mail coat.

"No!" He cried, springing from behind Imrahil, his voice fill of grief, only to be shoved back by Gandalf. Ash's heart went to the young hobbit that she loved so dearly, she wished to hold him like a mother would, soothing all his pain. Yet she stood firm, her face impassive, her heart torn in two.

The talking continued until Gandalf snatched the token's from the Lieutenants hand and told him in a loud voice, "Begone!" The Lieutenant's face twisted with anger, and he turned and galloped madly back to Cirith Gorgor. Then Sauron sent his army forward, and the Captains rode back to be with their people, and so the battle begun. 

The assemblies of all the peoples of Middle-Earth stood fearless together, not wavering until the Nazgûl arrived, their cold voices crying word of death and the armies of Sauron charged, then all hope left the hearts of men.

The first wave crashed into them, and Ash found herself surrounded by running Men, Elves, Orcs, Uruk-hai, Easterlings and Trolls. She was shorter than most, and soon found herself lost in the mass of people fighting. She turned to Timon, but found he had disappeared. Stopping, Ash turned around to find him, and saw him behind her, lying on the ground with a gash in his thigh from an Orc spear. She could see him try to get up, but fall back down. Suddenly she ran back towards him, his voice in her head. "This isn't about us…" But it was. He was part of Middle-Earth and she would not let him die. 

She fought her way past the army of Men until she came to him. "Timon, are you okay?" She screamed at him, trying to be heard above the noise. He looked up at her, his eyes wide. "I think so, but… Ash… you talked!" 

Ash froze, then shook her head. "Of course I talked, come on, get up!" She screamed, pulling him up. Placing his arm around her shoulders, she half ran, half pulled him forward, trying to find a safe spot to place him. Don't let him die she thought, and she ran with all her might. But Timon was heavy, and Ash found that she could not hold him for long. Finally dropping him, Timon lay still on the ground, his face pale from the loss of blood, his eyes closed in unconsciousness. 

Blood, so much blood was covering the ground. The sickening stench, the screams of those who were struck filled the air. Hemmed in on all sides, Ash looked up and saw no escape, no chance of survival for her and Timon. Mutated Orcs and Uruk-hai crowded around them, fighting other Men and, in some cases, each other. Ash's hand shook as she tried futilely to remove her dirk2 from its belt. 

__

No escape. Then this is to be my end. I wish it wasn't so. I am so scared to die. Meneldil, why aren't you here? I need you. 

In that instant, something changed. Ash did not miraculously slay millions of ors, her wrath overcoming all fear, nor did she command Timon to stand and fight for what they were going to die for, life. Nor did she rescue anyone of note from a painful death. But something small changed. 

By the grace of Eru, Ash found the courage, the strength, to unsheathe her dirk. She found the spirit to move her frozen wrist and attack foes. She found the grit to stand over Timon, draw his fallen sword and defend him. And when an Uruk blade rammed Ash through her side, she found the breath in her lungs to scream, loud, long and terrible. 

Then merciful Elbereth came to her rescue, and Ashlieth fainted, collapsing atop of Timon in painless sleep. And their blood ran together, and joined the mass that covered the Mordor soil. 

Rúmil heard her long cry, and its noise pierced his very soul. Slowly, cautiously, he fought his way over to her, his face filled with horror as bright, bright blood covered her back. With rage he fought onwards, standing over Ash and Timon like a guardian angel, his swords a mere blur to the casual eye. 

But even angels become weary, and Rúmil's shoulder began to ache, and his sword began to slow, his head drooping slightly. And his limbs tired, and his heart grew heavy.

__

Far, far away a creature falls into flame…

"The eagles are coming! The eagles are coming!" Éomer looked up into the sky, his heart filling with relief as the eagles attacked the Nazgûl, swooping suddenly onto the living dead. But the Nazgûl, turned and fled back into Mordor's shadows and their sent a call so terrible that even the hands of Sauron's slaves froze, loosing their limbs and allowing fear to seep into their hearts. Then Éomer cried aloud with the other Captains, and hope filled his heart, and he fought on, stronger. 

The call of the Captains also lifted Rúmil's heavy heart, and he picked up his sword with a renewed strength, his mind clearer, and his face determined to keep Ash and Timon alive. 

And Gandalf rose his hands and called out "Stand, Men of the West! Stand and wait! This is the hour of doom." As he spoke, Rúmil felt the ground beneath his feet tremble, and the mighty Towers tottered and fell down. The Black Gate was thrown into ruin, and a roar, far away at first, but soon on top of them, came, loud, bellowing the destruction of Sauron and all that was evil. 

As the roar diminished, Rúmil looked down to his feet and he cried aloud when he saw the state Ash and Timon were in. Their faces were pale, the blood dawn out of them and spilling onto the black soil. Not now, do not leave now. 

Scooping Ash up into his arms, Rúmil called Elrohir over to pick up Timon, and together they rushed them over to the Slag-Hills, where the healers were set up. On their way, Ash recovered consciousness for a moment. "I'm not… tell her… Gandalf… Meneldil." She moaned before falling into a painless sleep. Rúmil paused for the briefest moment. He spoke?

"Hang on Ash, hang on. Come on Lad, you've found your voice, do not give up now."

~

The battle was over, Middle-Earth was saved. The battlefield was strewn with the bodies of Orcs and free-creatures alike. Rúmil walked up and down Morannon, trying to find survivors. He wiped blood off his forehead, a cut from an Orcs weapon. The Orc had paid. Yet it was not his own wounds which was on Rúmil' mind. He was worried about the young boy-elf, Ash. Rúmil had left him at the hills, concerned, but unable to stay. There had still be enemy forces to deal with, not all of Sauron's minions had died in the collapse of the Black Gates.

Now that the battle was over, he was impatient to see how Ash had fared, but his place was here, helping those get the treatment Ash had. So he continued, walking up and down, finding the wounded and carrying them down to the tents at the bottom of the Slag-hills, which were now makeshift hospitals. Rúmil would carry the hurt to Aragorn, and some others who knew of medicine, and they would tell him where to place the wounded. There was so many that the tents were filled and the wounded spilt out onto the ground surrounding the area. This continued long into the night, until there was no more wounded left.

When he had checked and re-checked the entire battlefield, Rúmil strode quickly down to the tents. Being one of the first wounded, Ash was in an actual tent, far away from the Black Gates. Finally arriving outside the tent, Rúmil saw Gandalf seated, snoring, on a log next to her tent. Striding up, Rúmil shook Gandalf urgently. "How is he?" 

Gandalf looked up and blinked sleep out of his eyes. "Pardon? How is who?" He asked gruffly. 

Rúmil sighed in frustration. "Ash! How is he?" 

Gandalf muttered something barely audible in reply, and Rúmil' eyes widened as his sensitive elf ears picked up what a mortal would have missed, his brain whirling. Did Gandalf just say…

"What was that Gandalf?" Rúmil whispered.

Gandalf snorted gruffly. "I said, she is fine!" He replied crossly, and promptly fell asleep again. 

Rúmil eyes were as wide as the moon, reflecting his confusion and amazement. "She?" he asked softly, then sprinted into the tent. Running down its length, he stopped suddenly and walked slowly forward, for there, lying asleep in Ash's spot, was a young female Elf with long, curly, dark red-brown hair.

________________________________________________________________

Lle vesta Tuilindelle? = Do you promise Little Swallow?

Telella = Young elf, child

Gurth gothrim lye= Death to our foes 

1: The Mouth of Sauron is not a great big mouth 'ringed with fire', although that does make and interesting picture… "Who can gather all of Sauron's body part before the music stops?" No, seriously, he is a Black Numenorean, a Man who cannot remember his name, and he looks pretty gross. For more details, see Return of the King, (Book Five, Chapter ten, page 870 in my book)

Oh, and that entire scene can be found in the same chapter. I stole a lot from Tolkien, but what could I do, re-write it? No, that is what happened in the story, so that is how it will stay. 

2: A dirk is a 'sword', about twice as long as a dagger, but shorter than a real sword. Easy to carry, yet can be used in battle. Lighter as well. 

Anywho, and questions, give me a buzz down …

There

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See the pretty review button, click it, and answer this chapter's topic question…

Have I screwed anything up severely here? Like, with the story line and stuff (Other than the intentional, i.e. Naurcom, Niamh, Anárion etc)


	2. Peredhil

A/N: Welcome back to those that have read before, and those that haven't, hey! Smile! 

After getting so many positive reviews in the last chapter I just wanted to say thanks to all of them and that I hope that this chapter is just as good in your eyes. Oh, and I re-edited the last chapter so it has italics and stuff, just incase anyone was confused. (Ain't technology great?) 

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any books affiliated with J.R.R. Tolkien. And Rúmil has protested to me buying him. Am very sad. 

Chapter two: 

"It's been so long, surely she should be awake by now?"

"Give it time Elladan, there was a lot of poison on that blade, it will take awhile for the effect to get out of her system…"

"But Gandalf…"

"I am amazed at her speed of recovery Niamh…"

"What ho! Look, she's waking up!"

Pain filled Ashlieth's head as she tried to open her eyes. She could hear voices, but they were so far away. She knew those voices, she could hear people she knew and loved encouraging her, telling her to open her eyes slowly. Someone was holding her hand, squeezing it gently. A soft voice called to her. "Come on sweetie, open your eyes. Please Ashlieth." The voice was soft and warm, it sounded like…

Ashlieth's eyes slowly opened. "Mother!" She gasped, looking up into the face of Lady Niamh, whose tear-stained face was smiling gently at her. "Oh my baby!" She said, kissing Ashlieth on the head. "I am so proud of you Ashlieth, so proud." She choked, bursting into tears. "Oh my baby, don't ever do that to me again, I thought you were dead, oh my precious baby." She cried, her face in her hand. 

Gandalf came over and put his arms around her. "Come Niamh, she is safe now, don't cry." He soothed her, slowly leading her out of the room. "Let's get you a drink and allow Ashlieth to rest." He comforted, winking over Niamh's shoulder. Ashlieth grinned back, and he closed the door behind them. 

As soon as the door clicked shut, Ashlieth was bombarded by two dark-haired Elves, both of them throwing themselves on her bed to hug her, chattering incessantly. 

"By Eru Pest, I thoughts you were lost to us then! We all thought you was dead!" 

"Hush up Elladan!" Elrohir scolded 

"Why don't you, Elrohir?" Elladan retorted. 

"You have no right to boss me around!"

"Oh? And why not, when you boss me around?"

"Am older. Thus more responsibilities and therefor more privileges, like telling you to hush up!"

Ashlieth burst out laughing and hugged them all. 

"I am so glad you all escaped alive! Elladan, Elrohir, I have missed you so much, it has been ages since I last saw you!" She was puzzled when the twins ignored her, turning their backs on her.

"We are not speaking to you because you did not tell us you were going to fight." Elladan informed Ashlieth. 

"Oh, I'm sorry boys. But you would have made me go home." She pleaded with them. "Please forgive me." The Twins refused to budge. "Please?" No reply. "Pretty please?" Nothing. Ashlieth sighed, she knew what she had to do. 

"Oh Great Elladan, Oh Great Elrohir, great Elves of Bravery, I beseech thee to forgive my wrongdoing, Oh Great ones!" 

Casting a suspicious glance in her direction, the twins scurried away and held a conference. After some time they walked back grandly. 

"We have decided to forgive you, out of the goodness of our heart." Elladan said magnificently. 

"Oh, thank ye kind Sirs!" Ashlieth battered her eyelids and fanned herself. Then she grinned and Elrohir sat on the bed next to her and took her hand fondly. 

"In all seriousness, we do wish you had told us, Pest." He told her sternly. 

"Meneldil would have our hides, if he could." Elladan told her sadly and Ashlieth saw the grief that he felt at her brother's passing in his countenance. 

"I know." She said softly. "But, on the bright side, we all did escape." She said, then paused. "Everyone did escape, didn't they? Where Rúmil?" she asked, concerned.

"Here, Lady Ashlieth." A voice came from the corner of the room. "And yes, we all escaped." Rúmil stepped forward, and Ashlieth smiled up at him, her stomach doing a small flip-flop as she gazed at him. _He looks amazing, _especially_ once he has bathed!_

"I'm so glad you're not hurt Rúmil, I was worried when I couldn't see you as I was calling… Timon! Where is Timon?" Ashlieth cried, throwing back her covers and running to the nearest doorway. She threw the doors open and walked out onto a balcony. 

Ashlieth gasped. Before her was a beautiful valley, calm and tranquil. Water ran through the middle, fed by a waterfall that ran between two mountains. Birds flew overhead, their calls echoing over the small community which was built there, it's beauty blending in with the forest. "Where in Middle-Earth am I?" Ashlieth whispered, awe-struck. Rúmil walked up close behind her. "This, Lady Ashlieth, is Imladris." He said reverently.

"Imladris! But how did I get here?" Ashlieth asked, scared it was all a dream.

"When the battle was over, many of those pierced by blades or arrows fell into a Deep Sleep, as they had been poisoned. During this Sleep many passed on, but a few survived and were brought back to Rivendell for Lord Elrond to heal himself, being one of the few with the skill able to heal those in the Deep Sleep." Rúmil paused. "But have you not been here before?"

Ashlieth shook her head. "No, I have never left Gondolin before, and usually it is only the Twins here who come to my home. Elrond has only come once or twice… wait, Lord Elrond healed me?" Ashlieth squeaked out. 

Rúmil laughed at her expression. "Yes, but you needn't worry, he does not bite!" He grinned cheekily.

"Well, only occasionally." Elladan interrupted and Elrohir nodded. 

"When his is really mad."

"Or grumpy."

"Which is worse."

Ashlieth laughed, then fell silent, a distressed look upon her face. "I am almost afraid to ask, for my heart tells me an answer I do not wish to hear. Timon." Ashlieth turned and looked at Rúmil, her eyes begging his to contradict what she felt in her heart. Rúmil bowed his head, and Ashlieth closed her eyes, her heart heavy with grief. Tears slipped out from under her closed lids, and traced a wet line down her cheek and off her chin as she mourned for the young life of a friend's lost.

The day of Timon' funeral was a somber one. The boy had held on for the long journey until they reached Rivendell and there his life had left him during the night, his death a long and painful one. Ashlieth was overcome with grief, and she insisted on being present for the funeral, leaning heavily on Rúmil for support. Timon was laid out in a beautiful outfit and his sword lay across his chest. As they lowered his body into the ground, Ashlieth, with tears in her eyes, sang for him. Her sweet voice, which Timon would never hear again, echoed in the valley and it seemed to fill all of Rivendell. Then other voices were also lifted up with hers, and all of Rivendell mourned for the young boy this day. 

As she finished, Ashlieth lay her head on Rúmil' shoulder and wept for her friend Timon. A small stone was placed on top of his grave, into which had been carved:

Timon

A loyal friend who died for Middle-Earth.

We will meet again one day.

Ashlieth and Rúmil turned around and left, neither of them ever forgetting the young boy who sacrificed all for the land he loved.

"I do not think it would be wise for you to come home yet, Ashlieth." Niamh cautiously told her daughter. It was almost six weeks since Ashlieth first arrived at Rivendell, and Niamh was leaving to go back to Gondolin and her husband Anárion. "You father is still…upset with your antics, and I think it best if he were given more time to come to terms with what happened." 

Ashlieth nodded, "I agree, and I would like to stay in Rivendell longer. It is a fine place, and I would like to learn more about the rest of the world, as I have lived in Gondolin all my life. " 

Niamh smiled, pleased at this decision. Then she lent forward and embraced her daughter. "I love you Ashlieth, and I am proud of you. As for your engagement to Naurcom…" Niamh hesitated, then straightened her shoulders and she adopted a fierce look in her eye. "As for Naurcom, then I say give him back his ring and I hope that he chokes on it! After what you told me he said, I don't care what your father thinks, you are not to marry him!" 

Ashlieth squealed and hugged her mother. Niamh hugged her back, then held her at arm length. "In all seriousness Ashlieth, Naurcom will be arriving in Rivendell in a few months to gather more supplies, and you must be prepared." 

"Could you not send someone else?" Ashlieth grinned hopefully. Niamh shook her head. 

"I could, but it is better to deal with these things as they happen, rather than put them off. Also, I would rather you deal with it here under the protection of Elrond, rather than with your father near, especially now that…." Niamh tried to hold back a sob, and Ashlieth put her arms around her Mother.

Ashlieth nodded. "I know Mother." She whispered, and they stayed like that for a few minutes, until Niamh regained her composure. 

A knock came at the door, startling the women. "Please, enter if you are handsome!" Niamh called, winking at her daughter, who burst out laughing. Gandalf poked his head around the corner. 

"I don't know if you ladies would call me handsome, but I have with me Rúmil, and he makes up for the both of us." Gandalf said, chuckling at Rúmil's embarrassed grin and slightly swelled out chest.

"Shame on you Gandalf, you just look as dashing as you always have, my heart skips a beat each time I see you, old rogue." Niamh scolded, and Ashlieth and Rúmil burst out laughing as Gandalf went a deep red. "Now, why are you two gentlemen here?" Niamh asked. 

"Your horse and escorts are ready Lady Niamh, we came to let you know and to see if you had need of any assistance." Rúmil told them.

Niamh shook her head. "You gentlemen are too late, indeed Elladan and Elrohir just took my bag down. But," she added, "you may escort myself and Ashlieth down, if you like."

Immediately Rúmil and Gandalf held out their arms to the women, and Niamh took Gandalf's, leaving Ashlieth to take Rúmil' arm. They were about to leave the room when Niamh stopped and turned around. "Actually, I do have something for you to do for me, Rúmil." She said, face serious. 

Rúmil nodded, waiting to see what she requested. "Rúmil, this is a very serious request, so please do not take this lightly. I ask that you do not let my daughter marry Naurcom, no matter what happens, or who says otherwise. It is imperative that you do this, her life depends on this one wish. I ask you as Ashlieth told me that you rushed to her defense when Naurcom made his inappropriate remarks, even when you did not know she was there. Please, Rúmil, do this for me." She asked. 

Rúmil' brown eyes widened, then set in steely resolution. He nodded, and unconsciously placed his other hand on Ashlieth's in a protective manner. Niamh sighed, relief in her eyes. "Thank you, Marchwarden Rúmil." She murmured, then turned and walked with Gandalf out of the room. 

As they were walking down the path to the carriage, Ashlieth smiled at Rúmil. "You don't have to hold onto my arm so tight, Rúmil. For unless Naurcom is hiding in the bushes, I do not think he will force me to marry him just yet." She grinned, and Rúmil, laughing, loosened his grip on her arm. They walked much slower than Gandalf and Niamh, who had already reached Niamh horse and the Twins, neither of them speaking, just being comfortable in each other's presence. The sun was shinning warmly on the two Elves, and they slowly meandered their way along the path.

"Are they not a beautiful couple Gandalf?" Niamh asked him softly. Gandalf nodded in agreement. 

"Indeed they are, Niamh"

When Ashlieth and Rúmil caught up to the elder couple, it was time to say goodbye to Niamh. 

"Goodbye Mother. Send word when it is safe to come home." Ashlieth told her. 

"I will sweetie." Niamh said, kissing her daughter on both cheeks and hugging her. 

"Goodbye Gandalf." She sighed, hugging her friend. "I have missed your company, it is good to have you near. Please come and visit soon, you will always be welcome." She smiled, then turned to the Twins.

"Remember, I want you both to make as much trouble as you can and do not give your Father a _moments_ peace. The old stuff needs something to liven his life up!" Niamh smiled, before hugging both of them. 

"Elrohir, look after your brother. Elladan, make as much trouble as you can!" With a grin they both gave her another bone-crunching hug, then stepped back. Niamh turned to Rúmil. 

"Goodbye Rúmil. Remember what I told you." She said, and he nodded. Niamh sighed. "Give me a hug you precious Elf." She told him, giving him a big hug. Stunned, Rúmil hugged her back. 

"Fare thee well, Lady Niamh." He said formally and she smiled. 

"Thank you." She whispered. Then she gave her daughter one last hug. Letting go of each other, Gandalf went to help Niamh onto her horse, but she swung up gracefully on her own. "Goodbye my dear Ashlieth, take care." She called. Ashlieth smiled, though she felt sorrowful inside. 

"Goodbye Mother. I'll miss you terribly." She said, her voice choked up. Niamh smiled. 

"Oh, I doubt it, I doubt it." Niamh whispered to herself, looking at Ashlieth and Rúmil, who were still linking arms. Then she sighed. "Well, I will see all you soon. To Gondolin!' she told her escorts, and the horses moved on, Ashlieth and Niamh waving to each other until they were out of sight. Then Ashlieth sighed. 

"I slowly seem to be losing the people I love. Meneldil, Timon, Mother… it is getting rather lonely here." Ashlieth noted with a wiry smile. 

"You know, I am seeing a common factor in all this." Rúmil mused, ducking as Ashlieth went to slap him.

"That," She growled. "Was uncalled for!" And she spun around and walked off, her hair flying about her face. 

Rúmil looked at the Twins, his eyes wide. Both of them nodded sagely at him. 

"Sorry to disappoint you-"

"But it really was uncalled for." 

"Hey!" Rúmil cried indignant. "What ever happened to 'all for one, and one for all'?" He recalled an old truce from their childhood days. 

"That went flying out the door the instant you blamed us for the dye in Elrond's mead." Elladan accused him, and Elrohir agreed. 

"He is going to have a blue mouth for the rest of the month." 

"AND no-one believes it wasn't us!" 

Rúmil grinned and shrugged. "What can I say, you cried Nazgûl one to many times." He laughed, then looked over his shoulder in the direction of Ashlieth. 

"Oh, don't worry about her, she has a rotten temper." Elladan told him, throwing an arm about his friend.

"And loved Meneldil more than her own life. It will take her a while before she can come to terms with his death." Elrohir added. "It will take all of us a while." 

With one last glance over his shoulder, Rúmil allowed Elladan and Elrohir to walk him back to the house. 

How could he? Ashlieth fumed as she stormed through the forest, brushing branches aside with anger. _How could he say such a thing! How could he make light of my pain?_

Meneldil, I want you back. 

Ashlieth's hair caught on a branch and she yelled in pain and it wrenched her head back. Furious, she tried to undo the knot, only causing it to become more tangled in her haste. With a cry of desperation, she wrenched it free, cursing at the pain. 

Meneldil. 

In Ashlieth's minds eye, a broad man with flaming red hair and a wide smile walked towards her. He hadn't shaves in days and he looked tired and worn out. Yet his height helped give him the presence of a man in control, and man who was strong. Ashlieth could almost feel his arms around her, giving her one of his strong bear hugs. She could almost smell him, hear his voice…

Then he they were bringing him into the hall, and he was … dead. 

Suddenly Ashlieth was on her knees in the forest, a torrent of tears streaming down her face as she realised that she would never see Meneldil again. Her face screwed up, and she cried so hard that she was almost howling, her tears turning hysterical. "Meneldil… I … want …you …baack!" She sobbed, trying to breathe. "Why… did… you… leave me?" 

By now she was gasping and almost wrenching, like her body was trying to throw up the pain. "It's… not…fair!" She continued to cry until she had no more tears left, her body almost completely consumed with the pain that she felt. '_I can't do this alone, I can't face the day knowing your not there!'_

After curling herself up into a ball, Ashlieth fell into an exhausted sleep, her face blotchy and red from the tears. 

Her sleep was so deep that she did not feel herself being covered up.

It was dark when Ashlieth awoke, keeping her eyes closed while she tried to establish her surroundings. Something was covering her, and she felt warm and…OW! There was a tree root digging into her side. With a small grumble, Ashlieth slowly sat up, blinking so that her eyes could adjust to the… light?

"Why in Middle-Earth is there a fire?" Ashlieth asked herself, knowing that it wasn't her who did it. Her eyes searched the forest around her furiously, trying to find the cause of the warmth. Seeing nothing, she let her fingers run over the material that had covered her. 

"Tunics?" She frowned. "Who would have-" She broke into a small smile when she saw that the small stitching in the neck. "Elladan and Elrohir. With labels in their tunics, Eru bless them." She smiled, then pulled herself up, plucking bits of leaf and dirt out of her messy hair. 

"Elladan? Elrohir?" She called out, when she was distracted by a noise coming near the fire. Slowly she walked over and peered into the bushes. "Hello?" She asked in a small voice. Another noise came from behind her and she whipped around to see the twins finish buttoning up their tunics.

"Awake at last!" Elladan grinned, walking over to her. 

"We were worried when we found you." Elrohir scolded her slightly, engulfing her in a hug and then checking her over for any harm. "Elladan thought you were dead."

Ashlieth looked over to Elladan, who shrugged slightly, the tip of his ears going pink. "I have never gotten used to you sleeping so quietly, I could not hear you breathe." 

"I am sorry for scaring you," Ashlieth told him sincerely. "But I can assure you, I would have let you know I was dead!" She laughed, but her voice was alone. 

"Don't be sorry." Elladan shook his dark head. "We know why you left." He said, his eyes heavy. 

In a flash all that had happened in the day came rushing back to her and Ashlieth felt her stomach tighten. 

"Is Rúmil always that callous?" She growled, her fists clenched.

"Rúmil has never felt grief like you have." Elrohir said gently. "He does not know what he makes light of." 

"I'll give _him_ grief!" She muttered, her eyes still red and swollen. 

"Of course!" Elladan smiled. "And we will help you. We still have to get revenge for father's blue mouth." Elladan mused thoughtfully. 

"Be gentle!" Elrohir warned. "I do not want to be blamed for this one as I am for all the others!" 

Elladan rolled his eyes. "My brother Elrohir, ever the voice of reason-"

"And ever getting blamed for your pranks!" 

"Don't worry, we will not involve you or hurt him-"

"Too much." Ashlieth muttered. 

"-Too much." Elladan grinned and winked at Ashlieth. Then they turned and escorted her back to her bed and then left for theirs, soon all three of them asleep.

It was in the small hours of the morning, and Rúmil was sitting on his balcony, watching the world. He has already has his few moments of rest and, as an Elf, needed no more. His mind was wandering back to Lothlórien, to his beloved Mallorn trees and his family. He wondered why the Golden Lady had told him to come to Rivendell…

Rúmil, you are to accompany the wounded to Rivendell, for you are in need of a wider education. 

What? I have already completed the studies that I need to be a Marchwarden. 

No all education is of the mind, my dear Warden. 

He had felt a smirk when she said that, and it made him wonder. His mind then drifted off to thoughts of the battle at Helm's Deep (1). He wondered how Haldir was recovering. Thank Eru he had seen his brother fall and had been able to drag his wounded body to a safer place and get someone to heal him. He had no idea what he would do without his brother-

Rúmil winced as he remembered what he had said to Ashlieth earlier. True, he had meant it to lighten her spirits and she _had_ overreacted, but he did somewhat regret his words. 

As his thoughts went back to his brother, Rúmil heard a faint voice outside of his room and it puzzled him, normally Elves used this time of night for reflection and the gaining of wisdom, he rarely heard anyone leave their chambers. 

Quietly he walked over to his door and pulled it open, to see a girl in a white dress walking slowly down the hall. Her face was as pale as the moon that shone down on her and her voice was a soft whisper. Even her red hair seemed subdued as she listlessly came towards him, her words reaching his ears. 

"- where will the children play without fear? When all the world is gone, and all that is left is the fear and the pain and hurt, death, and your hands, your hands are coated in their blood." 

Rúmil watched as she drew closer, and her wide eyes were rubbing something unseen off her hand, and her voice rose in panic and her green eyes showed a terrible fear, one that Rúmil had never seen in her before.

"They won't come back, they wont! Come back! The blood won't leave, it won't go away!" Rúmil walked forward to grab her, but a hand shot out of the darkness and held him back. 

"Do not wake her." Elladan commanded in a strained whisper. "It will only make her worse." 

With some reluctance Rúmil stepped back and continued to watch her. "What is she doing?" Rúmil whispered. 

"She is sleepwalking." Elrohir told him. "It is a human trait, when they experience a rush of emotions in one hit, they have such vivid dreams about it that they will literally walk around in their sleep." 

"Then why do we not wake her?" 

"The dreams are very realistic, and if you try to wake a sleepwalker you become part of the night terror and cause them more fear than good. All you can do if follow them and make sure they are in no harm." (2)

Rúmil heard her voice raise in fear. "Why does she talk like that? With so much pain?" 

"It is part of the sleepwalking, Rúmil. It is how she is feeling, how she really feels, deep within her soul. She can't lie any more, she is not awake in order to conceive a lie, even to herself. She is showing how she feels." 

Ashlieth was about to pass them now, and her voice was quieter, more wistful. "And the blood rains down and runs off your face and all you can do is smile-" 

Rúmil stepped in front of her. "Why do you talk of death so?" He asked her, making sure she was not woken. Ashlieth turned and fixed her wide eyes on him. 

"They brought him home and his body was crippled and his face and his hair was covered in blood. His hands were cold, so cold, but he would be all right if I could warm him – why couldn't I warm his hands? So cold, so cold. So much blood, oh my brother, why won't you warm?" She asked an unseeing figure, caressing a face that no one but she could see. 

Rúmil went to open his mouth went Ashlieth gave a small laugh and continued to walk on, humming to herself. "And the light left his eyes as his smile grew dim…"

"We have to follow her." Elladan told Rúmil sleepily. 

"Do you want me to go with her?" Rúmil asked and Elrohir shook his head. 

"We too are half-Elven, we have dealt with sleep-walking many times." He told Rúmil, his eyes slightly bleary. 

"Father," Elladan let out a large yawn. "Father is the worst." He said with a grin, and Rúmil let out a chuckle. 

"I can well imagine. So then, I will see you later?" Rúmil questioned. Both twins shook their heads. 

"Do not expect to see us early in the morning, for we will be catching up on some well deserved rest." Elrohir said, and Rúmil frowned in confusion. 

"Peredhil." Elladan said simply. "Need sleep, unlike you pure-blood snobs!" He claimed, followed by another large yawn. Rúmil chuckled and bid them goodnight and was about to reenter his chambers when Elrohir caught his sleeve. 

"Rúmil, Ashlieth will have no memories of this in the morning, do not tell her. It will only bring more grief." He said seriously and Rúmil nodded in agreement before slipping through his door. 

So this is how she suffers? And I was callous enough to make a cruel joke about it. The poor girl.

The next morning a tired Ashlieth slipped into her seat for breakfast. Rúmil smiled slightly at her. 

"Good Morning." 

Ashlieth smiled up at him. "Good Morning Rúmil. How was your evening?" 

"Spent well in thought and reflection. And yours?" Rúmil asked, wanting to know what she remembered. 

"I slept like a log!" Ashlieth smiled, then yawned slightly. "Though I don't think it was enough!" She gave a sleepy grin and continued to eat. Rúmil stared at her for a moment, then almost smiled. She truly had no idea of what happened. He then took a deep breath, preparing himself to say what had been on his mind all morning. 

"Ashlieth, I'm-" Rúmil paused and Ashlieth looked expectantly at him. "I am deeply sorry for what I said yesterday." 

For he briefest second Rúmil could have sworn he saw the same fear in Ashlieth's eyes that he saw last night, but Ashlieth brushed it away and grinned. 

"Forgiven, I understand you didn't mean any harm." She said, holding her hand out for him to shake. With a slightly confused look at the proffered hand, Rúmil took it and kissed it slightly, the Gentlemanly gesture ruined when he was bombarded the Twins. 

As he was being greeted, Rúmil did not notice the wink between Ashlieth and Elladan as he slipped something into Rúmil's mug. 

And breakfast continued on as normal until…

"ELLADAN!!! ELROHIR!!!" 

"It wasn't me!" 

And there was much laughter in Rivendell that day as a blue-mouthed Rúmil chased a pair of dark-haired blurs around the house. 

Peredhil = half-elven. There is some debate whether this is used for all half-elves or just Elrond's family. For the sake of argument, let's pretend that all half-elves are referred to as this. 

1: Oh boy, I know that I will have problems with this one. Okay, so (that I can think of) this is the _only_ movieverse in my story. I would like to apologise to my purist, Lariel, and the only defense that I can give is… Haldir in action! What more can I say?

2: All the fact about sleepwalking is true. Never wake a sleepwalker, they become confused and you will turn into part of their dream. My brother has night terrors and sleepwalks all the time, and it's pretty hard to see him so scared, but I will only scare him more if I wake him. And they cannot lie. If you ask a sleepwalker any question, they will tell you the truth. (Very handy, I might add)

A plush Haldir cuddly toy for all those I have insulted or who review! 

And thanks for reading this! 

Please review and let me know what you think! 

NB: Flamers will be persecuted and then used to warm up my room, which is really cold right now!)

This chapter's question: What do you guys feel towards/about Ashlieth? And tell me honestly, because this I my only chance to fix her before I get to involved in the story.

Reviewer Responses: 

Thinlaithiel: Already??!!??? Blushes Wow, thank you, that was really sweet of you! Oh, yayness! Hands Thinlaithiel a BIG bag of pipeweed Please, smoke this at your own pleasure, because you were my FIRST REVIEWER!!! Pops a party popper! THANK YOU!

Applecrumble: Nice name… Mmmm… Apple Crumble… (Said in typical Homer Voice) Am glad you like it so far, and I too notice the lack of Rúmil stories, although it _could_ be because he has no lines and is mentioned twice in the whole book. AND wasn't made to die in the movie! (Curses PJ for death of Haldir) Thanks for the vote of confidence! I will try to keep this story alive!

Web Walker: Will I update? NO! Looks around shiftily MWHAHAHA! Grins Actually yes, and here it is. I hope this chapter wasn't a disappointment for you.

Nilimade: Your wish is my command! Taps FF.net with fairy wand PING! Next chapter! Thank you for your lovely review!

Jessica: Hey, that was really nice of you to say so! Good to know I didn't stuff it up, and thanks tonnes for answering the question, it really helps me to write better. Again ducks head and get embarrassed Thanks!

Lariel: YAY! My first purist! Lots of happiness. I love book Arwen, but movies Arwen Agreeance muchly on the 'OC hop into the lustee's pants' bit. That REALLY bugs me, because it then makes the blokes mushy and 'sensitive' shudders (Curse those SNAGs!) I mean, all raise your hands if you know (or are) a guy who see a chick and falls for her instantly, declaring his undying love and marries her that afternoon. Cricket chirrups Thought so. 

I can assure you that there will be NO 'getting into pants' because I want this to be readable to all peoples, not just icky teens. As I said, the PG. is to prevent anyone getting mad at me!

Unfortunately my chapters are going to shorten, but I swear to keep them of decent length, probably about 3-5 thousand words, sometimes more but never less!

Am sorry about the pendant bit, but it's purpose will come later. Basically it needed to be introduced now, rather than later. I am very glad you liked how I wrote the characters, please let me know if I stuff it up! 

And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, was a true CC. Thank you very much!

Merry lad: Nice name! I am really glad you like it so far! Let me know if I am still making you happy with the next one!

Elenya: Rúmil is a great character! So little is known of him that you can have tonnes of fun mucking around with him! I'm glad you like this story, I hope that this next chapter doesn't disappoint!

Thanks again for reading! 

- Just Curious 


	3. Lle Vesta!

A/N: Yay! Another chapter, and so soon! I am hoping to update once a week, and since the last chapter was 1.5 weeks, I wanted to make this one quicker! But so few reviews… whimper. Sigh… Anywho, thanks to those who did review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any thing else written by J.R.R. Tolkien. However, I am on my way to owning Rúmil. Have bribed Orophin with cookies to help me. Go me!

Chapter 3 – Lle Vesta!

Ashlieth sighed and walked along the pathway, bored to tears. Elrond was holding a council, and Rúmil (his mouth normal once more, although it had taken both he and Elrond four months for it to leave completely) and all her friends were there, meaning Ashlieth had no one to talk to. The Hobbits and a group of Elves had returned two days ago, and yesterday it had been Bilbo's 129th birthday. Ashlieth had felt much relief to see Peregrin once more, safe and well, though it seems she was not the only one scarred by the battle. He was still in small amounts of pain, especially when he moved for too long, though it was impossible to keep the Hobbit still. Meriadoc was constantly worrying about him, although he tried not to show it. The poor lad was almost beside himself trying to keep Peregrin still, Rúmil had commented that the Hobbit was already sprouting some grey hairs.

When Ashlieth had told Rúmil that she was glad that someone was taking care of Peregrin, he seemed like someone who needed guidance and protection. Rúmil had laughed and given her a huge hug, he said it was the mother inside of her that was talking. This had given way to a small spat, with Ashlieth's temper getting the better of her as she claimed that she 'did not have a mothering instinct' and walked off, ignoring the sound of Rúmil's laughter.

Ashlieth grinned ruefully, her temper was too quick and she was too hasty in her actions. But what could she do? She was her father's daughter after all!

Ashlieth wandered along a forgotten path, having no idea where it was taking her. Humming a tune to herself, she bent down to smell a rose, its fragrance strong and sweet. As she leant down, she saw that a twig had been snapped in half by someone walking past. She stood up, and between the forest she saw a path, hardly noticeable, and fresh footprints indicated that someone had walked by recently.

Unable to hide her curiosity, Ashlieth stalked silently along the small path and down a small hill, her footprints light and making not a noise. Up ahead she could see a clearing, and she hid behind a tree, and peered cautiously out. In the middle of the clearing, oblivious to all around them, Elrohir and an Elf stood there, gazing into each other's eyes. Ashlieth blushed at the pair, then slowly started to walk away, leaving them to croon to each other.

As she did so, she heard a wild yell of someone falling down the path, and she spun around quickly as a figure crashed into her and knocked her into the clearing, both of them screaming. Elrohir and the Elf sprung apart, and looked on in bemusement as Ashlieth and Pippin lay there, covered in dirt and leaves.

Ashlieth groaned and lifted herself up onto her hands and knees, embarrassed at disturbing the couple. She lowered her head to hide her blushing face. "Ever wish that the ground would open completely and swallow you up?" She asked Elrohir. "Well, that is how I feel now. I am very sorry for disturbing you, Elrohir. Please accept my sincerest apologies, My Lady." Ashlieth apologised humbly.

"Yeah, we're sorry Elrohir. Please, pretend we're not here and go back to kissing your ladyfriend." Pippin added, as Ashlieth thwacked him hard.

"Pippin! Hush!" she scolded, and leaping up, she made as if to run away.

"Please, stay." The female Elf smiled. "Indeed I think Elrohir can wait a while, don't you?" She asked, winking.

Ashlieth grinned back. "I believe so. Actually, I am curious about one thing, Elrohir, why are you not at Elrond's council? Or yourself Pippin?"

Elrohir stared at Ashlieth, then back at the Elleth. "The council! Oh no, I was meant to… he asked me to…oh by the Valor no!" He exclaimed, and ran to the path and up the hill, Pippin laughed at his retreating back.

"Lord Elrohir had better tuck in his shirt, or his Father won't be to pleased!" He chuckled.

"And why are you not at this council, Pippin?" Ashlieth asked, amused. Pippin shrugged.

"Lord Elrond told me to go and fetch Elrohir, he said he had to think without my constant prattle. To be perfectly honest, I think he needed time to understand all of my brilliant ideas, no offence to Lord Elrohir, but Elrond just doesn't have the capacity to understand like us Hobbits." He added knowingly. "Well, I've found Elrohir and sent him on his way, so I'll see you two later." Pippin declared, scampering off. The elleth and Ashlieth looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"So, you must be Ashlieth? I am pleased to finally meet you." The lady smiled, walking up to Ashlieth.

"Yes, I am. And you are the love of Elrohir's life, Alurina, are you not?" Ashlieth said grinning. Alurina went red.

"I hope so." She said softly.

"Oh, I can assure you that you are. He spoke very little whilst I was in Mordor, but what he did say persuaded myself that you are everything to him." Ashlieth assured Alurina.

"My Elrohir? Spoke little? That comes as a slight shock to me, but I thank you for your kind words." She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Would you like to go for a walk? We have time to waste whilst the men are away." Alurina asked Ashlieth.

"Thank you, that would be lovely." Ashlieth replied, and they walked down the path. "I am surprised that Elrohir did not inform us you were back from Arwen's marriage. He has been bemoaning you absence for so long that I assumed he would have mentioned your return."

"I only arrived back today, one of our men was wounded on the way back and I remained behind to heal him." Alurina told Ashlieth, who grinned.

"And I assume he has been to busy to inform us of your return?" She asked as Alurina's ears blushed and the Elleth changed the subject.

"You live in the Echoriath, do you not?" Alurina asked Ashlieth, who nodded.

"Aye, in Gondolin."

"Gondolin? But that was lost in the first age, I had no idea that it still existed." Alurina asked, shocked. Ashlieth smiled.

"It does, let me assure you. Many live there now of all races and creeds." Ashlieth felt proud of her homeland, it was an almost unique place where all creatures lived together.

"Pardon?" Alurina's eyebrows lifted dramatically. Ashlieth tried to explain.

"Gondolin was lost, as you know, at the end of the first age when they were attacked by Melkor. All fled, and the great city was thought to be lost. Some years ago, my mother went back to the Echoriath and found it's secret path once more. She slowly rebuilt some of the ruins with a few of her loyal friends, trying to restore it to its former glory. One morning, my mother was alerted by a call from one of the watchmen. When she arrived at the scene, she saw a tall man with flaming red hair, his sword drawn, yelling that he would destroy all those who tried to lay hands on him!" Ashlieth smiled.

"It was my father, badly beaten and with terrible injuries, yet he refused to lie down and die. When he saw my mother, however, he bowed low and told her he had no idea that the Valar resided there." Ashlieth smiled and Alurina sighed.

"How beautiful!"

"It was. He only allowed my mother to care for him, and he was a terrible patient, always re-opening wounds as he trained to become stronger and nearly killing himself with fatigue as he stayed up late studying. Gradually, however, my Mother fell in love with him, and he… he loved her. They married and opened up Gondolin for those who had nowhere else to go. Elves, Men from all over Middle-Earth, Dwarves, we have even had a few Hobbits." Ashlieth chuckled.

"They work for their food and shelter and all learn to trust each other. We have had a few bad eggs, but no one has ever left Gondolin, for it is a beautiful place, secure and comforting. In Gondolin, children grow up without the feeling of true fear." Ashlieth stopped her talking as she thought back to a few years ago, when she had been one of the fearless.

"So, tell me Ashlieth. What is the world of men like? What is it like to live among them, yet be an Elf?" Alurina queried, interrupting Ashlieth thoughts.

Ashlieth frowned. "It is hard to explain. As you know, I am only half Elf, and so in that regard I do understand the ways of Men more than most. They are not as selfish as folklore makes them out to be, indeed they can be caring and selfless, when they wish. That is the problem with Men, for the Elves _are_ serene, Hobbits _are_ loyal, Dwarves _are_ gruff, yet Men are not anything. Some are kind, some are greedy, some are shy, some are grumpy, and some are helpful yet cold, some hate yet wished to be loved. They have no one strong trait and that is what makes them hard to figure out. I suppose if they were to be given a title, it would be courage. Even the weakest child will stand up for what they believe in, be it right or wrong. Many of them die for their beliefs."

Ashlieth's voice trailed off slightly, and for a moment she stood alone with many painful memories, looking through the trees.

"It is hard to know them well, when they die so young, many Men do not make it into three digits of life. I have had many friends over the years, and all of them die. In the end you try not to make mortal friends, for then you do not suffer when you lose them. It is too hard to constantly lose those you love, Alurina. It is so hard." Ashlieth broke off.

They walked on for a while in silence, then sat on a bench, talking about nothing for quite some time, until both Elrohir and Rúmil came striding down the path, deep in conversation. Upon seeing the girls they both broke out into wide smiles and they walked up to them, Elrohir holding out his arm for Alurina.

"Milady, I believe we were interrupted before, and I for one would like to continue where we left off. May I?" He asked, half smiling, whilst winking at Rúmil.

Alurina stood up and took Rúmil' arm, and they walked off, leaving Elrohir and Ashlieth behind stunned. As they walked, Alurina turned and winked at Elrohir, holding her head high. Elrohir smirked back.

"Well, if Alurina is not going to kiss me, I will have to kiss Ashlieth here instead!" He declared, swinging Ashlieth up into his arms.

Ashlieth face paled as a voice, cold and sinister, coming from the depth of her memory rang in her head.

"Will you marry me, Rusvamir?"

She struggled frantically, memories flooding to her mind. "No! No! Put me down, you great dirty beast! Naurcom, put me DOWN!" She screamed, wriggling out of Elrohir's grasp, and giving a very sharp and hard kick to the surprised male's shin.

"Oww!" Elrohir gasped, clutching his shin. Alurina raced up to him and knelt beside him whilst Rúmil burst out laughing.

"Are you okay, would you like me to get something for it?" Alurina asked, concern in her voice.

"No, I'm fine." Elrohir stood up, wincing.

"That will teach you Elrohir. Never take a female off guard!" Rúmil hooted, tears rolling down his face.

Ashlieth blushed, ducking her head. "I'm sorry Elrohir, it's a natural reaction, you scared me." She said, ashamed.

"Why did you call me Naurcom?" Elrohir asked softly.

At the stares from the others Ashlieth shrugged. "It is a story for another day, but I am sorry."

"Don't worry yourself about it, it is only a flesh wound." Elrohir chuckled. "But it does hurt a lot, Alurina, can you kiss it better?" He asked cheekily. Alurina promptly leant over and placed a kiss on his mouth, and Rúmil and Ashlieth threw their hands over their eyes, not wanting to witness 'that sort of thing'. There was a long pause, and an amused Alurina called out. "We've finished you two, you can look now!"

A very embarrassed Rúmil and Ashlieth slowly took their hands off their faces.

"It's not that bad, you two. You really should try it sometime." Alurina chuckled.

"If anyone is going to kiss Ashlieth, it will be me!" A voice called out. The group spun around and saw the offender walking down the path, a dark look on his face.

"Naurcom!" Ashlieth gasped. The mirth was immediately wiped off Rúmil's face and he placed himself between the two. Suspicion was expressed all over Naurcom's face. "Rúmil, I am allowed to kiss my fiancée, you know." He said, an eyebrow raised.

Promise me Ashlieth!

"Ex-fiancée." Ashlieth said.

Naurcom stopped mid-stride. "Pardon?" he queried.

Don't let Father ruin your life!

"I said, ex-fiancée. I will not marry you Naurcom, not if you brought me the world." Ashlieth said determinedly.

Don't let him hurt you!

"Why not? What brought this about?" Naurcom asked slowly, walking towards Ashlieth.

Promise me Ashlieth!

"You know perfectly well what you did, Naurcom. And you know why I will not marry you." Ashlieth replied calmly, her knees trembling as she stared into the awakening fury of Naurcom.

Lle vesta _Tuilindelle! Lle vesta!_

Naurcom's face twisted into anger. "Yes, you will. Remember what your father said? We are to be married in two months time. That is what the ring on your finger says, doesn't it, Rusvamir? That you agreed to marry me." He snarled. Ashlieth looked at her hand. There it was, the ring he'd given her when her father had consented for her to marry Naurcom. Ashlieth shuddered as she remembered that night.

"No, Father I will not marry him!" Ashlieth screamed as she ran around the table to face her father.

"Yes you will, for I have said so!" Anárion bellowed, grabbing a vase and throwing it at Ashlieth, the glass smashing against the wall as she ducked. His face was contorted with anger and he stormed over to Ashlieth and grabbed her arm. "Listen to me," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "You will marry Naurcom, he has done a nice deal with me and I must uphold my end."

Ashlieth snarled back at him. "So this is what I mean to you, father. Nothing! I am just an object that you own and can sell off to the highest bidder!" She wrenched her arm away from her father, her hair flying into her face. "Well, I refuse to be sold!" She stormed away, then spun back to face Anárion.

"And why Naurcom? You hate Elves, Father, it is your hate for their immortality that has eaten away inside of you for so many years, why have me marry Naurcom?"

"I hate their immortality because rightfully it should be mine! Had my forefather Elros chosen to remain as elf-kind then I too would have an everlasting life. Instead I have to spend my life doing tests, drinking potions and studying, trying to preserve this meager life of mine. But I am determined to have immortality in my descendants one way or another, and your marriage to Naurcom allows my grandson to have the upbringing that you and Meneldil had because of my marriage. You should be grateful for what I have done for you!" Anárion snarled, his eyes shining with hate as he relived his younger days.

Ashlieth shook her head; her father really had lost his mind. "I am not grateful, and I never will be. You have no right to rule my life, or the life of my children." Ashlieth spat back, ducking as her father threw another ornament at her.

"You will change you mind." He father scowled, his eyes glinting dangerously. "Naurcom!" He bellowed. Naurcom entered the room, and Ashlieth's eyes narrowed, wondering what her father had up his sleeve. "Naurcom, my son." He said pointedly. "I wish to leave you and Ashlieth alone for some time, for you to get to know each other."

Naurcom smiled. "Thank you, my Lord, that will be much appreciated." He bowed to Ashlieth, but there was something in his eyes that sent shivers down her spine. Anárion left, and the two were left facing each other.

"Naurcom, I will not marry you, so you may as well leave now" Ashlieth spat at him. Naurcom simply smiled.

"Yes you will, dearest. Your father has said it will be so, and what will happen if you don't? More than likely he will take it out on your mother, and I would hate for her to be hurt." He said menacingly.

Ashlieth's blood boiled, and she threw herself at him, screaming. "How dare you! Don't you ever hurt my mother! Don't you dare! I hate you! I will never marry you, you creep!" She screamed, hitting him with everything she had. Naurcom simply warded off her blows, until one managed to hit him, square on the chin. Ashlieth smirked, proud of herself as Naurcom felt his jaw.

"You will pay for that." He said coldly in the silence that followed, his eyes glinting dangerously in the dimly lit room. Ashlieth backed away from him, wide-eyed, for the first time in her life, scared.

"Go away." She whispered, still backing away. Naurcom leered at her.

"I don't think I will, she-elf!" He snarled, then lunged forward and grabbed her by the wrist, flinging her across the room. She cried out as she hit the cold stone wall, her unruly hair flying into her eyes. Naurcom came closer. "Will you marry me?" He asked her.

Ashlieth growled back at him, flinging the hair from her eyes. "No!"

He came forward and hit her across her face, leaving a cut on her cheek as her head snapped back from the strength of the blow. "Will you marry me?" He asked for a second time. Once again Ashlieth shook her head, not allowing her hand to rub her stinging cheek.

Outside the room, two guards stood there, pained looks on their faces. They could hear the blows being rained upon Ashlieth, and again and again the question being asked, "will you marry me?" With each blow the guards cringed, and finally one could no longer stand it. "She is your daughter!" He called desperately to the nearby Prince. "Help her Sire!" He begged.

The Guardian smiled at the guard. "Oh, but you see, I am." He said quietly.

"Will you marry me?" Naurcom asked the beaten Ashlieth. Blood ran down from her mouth and her hair was sticking up widely. She shook her head again, and he grabbed her and slammed her into the wall, twisting her arm behind her back. Pressing his face up against her hair, he again asked, "will you marry me?" Ashlieth remained silent, tears running down her face. Snarling, Naurcom wrenched her arm around further until he heard a scream escape her lips.

Satisfied, he let go of her and she dropped to the floor, clutching her arm and sobbing. "Will you marry me, Rusvamir?" He asked, and slowly she nodded, tears pouring down her face. Naurcom smiled and knelt behind her, pressing kissed all over the back of her exposed neck. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it, Rusvamir?" he crooned. Then he took her left hand, and pushed a ring onto her finger. "There, we are now engaged. Make sure you act like it." He cautioned, and standing up, he left the room, leaving her huddled against the wall, sobbing.

Ashlieth stared at the ring, it was filled with evil, like the man who gave it to her. She hated him, and suddenly she didn't care what he did to her, she just wanted him out of her life.

Rúmil stared at Ashlieth. She had remained in silence for quite some time now, and he could see her muttering to herself. She was pale and trembling slightly, massaging her left arm. Rúmil' eyes narrowed, what had Naurcom done to her? He moved closer to her, offering her support, whilst at the same time preventing Naurcom from reaching her. "Ashlieth?" He asked gently, offering her his hand.

Ashlieth smiled up at him, and as she did so, her eyes cleared and her face became more resolved. She took his hand and squeezed it, then walked past him so she could see Naurcom, though still standing quite close to Rúmil and her hand clung to his for support. "Take your prized ring, Naurcom. I don't want it and I don't want you! Leave me alone!" she commanded him.

Naurcom stood there, a disgusting look on his face. "Fine," he snarled. "I'll leave, for now. But you will marry me in the end, Rusvamir!"

Ashlieth's eyes shot sparks at Naurcom, and she hurled the ring at him, which hit him in the cheek, leaving a red mark across it. "For old times sake." She smirked at him. His hand flew to his cheek, and his eyes widened. Then he bent down and picked up the ring, his eyes never leaving hers, singeing them with a smoldering fire of anger. Then he turned, and walked back the way he had come.

As soon as he was out of sight, Ashlieth felt her knees buckle underneath her, and as she fell Rúmil sprang forward and caught her, scooping her up into his arms. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Ashlieth burst into tears, burying her face in his chest.

Rúmil held her close, and whispered comforting words to her in Sindarin, rocking her gently until she feel asleep. He turned around to see Elrohir and Alurina standing close to each other, sorrow in their eyes. With a heavy heart, Rúmil turned back and took the sleeping Elf back to her room.

Rúmil felt many emotions rushing through him as he carried her, anger at Naurcom for what he had done that had mentally hurt Ashlieth so much. He felt pride in what she had done, standing up to Naurcom the way she did, but he also felt worried by what Naurcom had said, _"I'll leave, for now. But you will marry me in the end, Rusvamir!" _Rúmil frowned, there was no way he was going to let Naurcom get to Ashlieth, even if it meant following her constantly. And even as he looked down on the sleeping Elf he felt a peace in his heart, knowing that she had turned to him for protection comforted him, it made him even more resolved to protect her.

Coming into her room, he placed her softly on her bed, and pulling the covers over her, he turned to leave. Ashlieth whimpered in her sleep, her arms reaching out, trying to find him. Walking back Rúmil took her hands in his, and sat beside the bed, comforting her in sleep as best he could.

:::

Ashlieth was dreaming. In her dream she was standing in a huge field, completely alone. The sun was warm on her as she danced around, and she hummed a tune to herself. "Ash, you can speak!" a voice called out. Turning, Ashlieth saw Timon standing behind her, his face lighted up in a smile. "Catch me Ash!" He called, and turned and ran away. Laughing, she ran after him, but no matter how far or how fast she ran, Timon was always ahead of her.

"Timon, wait!" She called, but she could not hear her own voice. Suddenly an arrow flew out of the forest and went straight through Timon, piercing his heart, and he fell on his face. Ashlieth cried out and she ran forward and turned him over. She screamed when she found it was Naurcom, his hand grasping her wrist. "Marry me!" He whispered.

Ashlieth pulled her arm free, and as she did so she found herself in a long, dark hall, dimly lit by torches hung on the walls. Naurcom was standing down one end, Rúmil down the other, and she stood with Elrohir and Elladan in the middle. "Choose now." Elrohir and Elladan commanded in unison, and they moved away, leaving her alone.

Naurcom held out his ring, and sneered at her. "Marry me, choose me, be mine." He whispered. Ashlieth turned away from him, and instinctively walked towards Rúmil. Naurcom spoke again. "Your Father will kill your mother. Marry me, choose me, be mine." Ashlieth faltered, and looked at Rúmil. Rúmil did nothing, just stand there and look at her, his eyes pleading.

"Your Father will destroy you. Marry me, choose me, be mine." Naurcom called again. This did nothing to sway Ashlieth, she continued to walk towards Rúmil. "Your Father will slay him. Marry me, choose me, be mine." Ashlieth stopped in her tracks. "No," she whispered, turning to face Naurcom, "No, I won't let him die." She stumbled back towards Naurcom.

"Ashlieth!" Ashlieth turned to face Rúmil, as he called out to her. He held out his hands, his eyes telling her to trust him. She stood in the middle, undecided.

"Marry me, choose me, be mine." Naurcom mocked her. Rúmil said nothing, yet his eyes spoke it all. Ashlieth ran towards him, sobbing. She ran as fast as she could, flinging herself into his arms.

"Marry me, choose me, be mine!" Ashlieth looked up to find it was Naurcom she clung to, and Rúmil was far away. She tried to pull free, screaming at the disappearing Elf. "Rúmil! Rúmil! Rúmil!"

:::

"Ashlieth, Ashlieth!" Rúmil shook her, trying to wake her up. "Ashlieth wake up!" He called to her. Ashlieth was calling out in her sleep, and she was distressed, tossing and turning in her dream. "Ashlieth, you're safe, wake up!" He murmured, stoking her hair gently. Suddenly her eyelids fluttered open and she sat up, looking into his worried face, tears streaking down her pale cheeks.

"Rúmil?" She muttered, then smiled and flopped back onto her bed. "Thank Eru, it was all a dream…" She said. Sitting up once more, she rubbed sleep out of her eyes. "I feel dreadful, what with Naurcom turning up and that nightmare… I feel dirty! I need a swim." She decided.

Rúmil looked concerned. "Ashlieth, if you don't mind me asking, what was your dream about?"

Ashlieth's eyes opened wide, and she blushed as she remembered the decision she made at the end. "Umm… nothing really, just a bad dream?" She said hopefully. Rúmil arched an eyebrow.

"Honestly, it wasn't that bad." Ashlieth laughed nervously. "Just lots of… monsters with large teeth and dripping fangs and blood and stuff."

Rúmil's eyebrow disappeared into his hairline.

"Oh, alright." She sighed, and proceeded to tell him what had happened.

His eyes displayed nothing but concern for her, and when she had finished he sat there, thoughtful. "Perhaps you are right, Lady. Come, I will take you to where you can swim. Mayhaps it will clear our thoughts." Taking her by the hand, he went to lead her out of the room. Ashlieth didn't budge, her eyebrows raised.

"Umm, Rúmil? I can't go swimming in this!" she gestured to her dress. "Would you give me a moment to change?" she asked. Rúmil grinned,

"I could just stay." He winked and Ashlieth raised an eyebrow. "I won't look." He promised innocently. Ashlieth snorted.

"Yes, and I am a flying Dwarf, no, Sauron! No, Eru himself!" She laughed, flinging her arms wide and Rúmil left the room, rolling his eyes, closing the door behind him. Ashlieth quickly changed into a pair of pants that she has stolen from Elladan and a shirt of Elrohir's, then they exited the house.

It took them quite some time to reach the river, but when they got there it was well worth it. It was crystal clear water, Ashlieth able to see right to the bottom. She smiled as Rúmil sat by the bank, ready to watch her. "Are you not coming in Rúmil?" She asked him.

"I think not, I will instead watch you swim." He replied.

"I don't think so Rúmil." Ashlieth muttered under her breath. She leant down by the water's edge, and WOOSH! A huge spray of water landed on Rúmil, drenching him from head to toe. His eyes widened and he blinked a couple to times, then a mischievous smile spread across his face.

Ashlieth, who was laughing so hard she was unable to breath, backed slowly away from him, her heads held up to protect herself. "Don't you even think about it!" She gasped, but Rúmil continued to walk forward. Suddenly he leapt forward and scoped her up into his arms, and walked over to the river, Ashlieth wriggling in protest. "Rúmil, don't you dare…" SPLOOSH! Ashlieth landed in the water, and she went under.

Rúmil stood there laughing at her, then stopped suddenly when he realised she had not come back up. "Ashlieth!" He called, walking over to the water edge and peering into it. "Ashlieth, where are you-" He called as the Elf pushed him into the water, dripping wet. Rúmil' arms flailed, and he fell forward, diving gracefully into the water at the last second. His head cleared the surface and he blew water off his nose, grinning. "Alright, you got me. Truce?" He called out, extending his arm out to her.

Ashlieth grabbed his hand, and was promptly pulled into the water. Coming up, Rúmil fell about laughing, and they had a huge water fight, with Ashlieth coming off much worse then Rúmil. After much splashing and dunking, they climbed back onto the bank, and flopped onto it, drenched and still chuckling. The stars had come out, and Ashlieth and Rúmil lay there, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Rúmil?" Ashlieth finally broke the silence.

"Hmm?" Rúmil turned over to look at her.

"The night when Naurcom insulted me, and we were next to the river. You started to say something, but Naurcom's horn interrupted you. What was it you were going to say? It started with 'I wish'."

Rúmil flopped onto his back and they lay there in silence for quite some time. "I wish…" he began, "I wish that everyone had someone out there, who was designed just for them. I suppose I wanted to have the comfort in knowing that my 'other half,' as Men put it, was back in Lothlórien, waiting for me to come home." He finished, his voice tranquil in the calm of night.

Ashlieth sighed. "I know how you feel. I too have no 'other half', for there is no one in Middle-Earth who could possibly love a half Man, half Elf like me."

"A_ Peredhil_ you mean?" Rúmil queried.

"Yes, a Peredhil, a union of Eldar and Edian." Ashlieth whispered in understanding. "The only people I attracted are creeps like Naurcom." She sighed.

Rúmil smiled at her. "Don't be to sure." He whispered, and they lay there, once again looking at the stars.

**Footnotes:**

Rusvamir: broken jewel

Lle vesta Tuilindelle = Do you promise, little Swallow?

Peredhil = Half-elf. Often used in reference to Elrond and Elros (Elrond's brother who choose mortality)

Once more, complete honesty about what you though (but flamers will be severely laughed at and used for flambé), and this chapter's question…

There is none. Just honest reviewing would be nice.

Sorry if it is the latter. A pack of Exploding Snap for reviewers and 2 for those who found her dull. Again, apologies.

Merry Lad: (waves) Hey! Nice to see you back again! I'm really glad you still like my story, I pray that this chapter wasn't a disappointment, due to the lack of happiness. Sorry, I will try to remedy that one. I'm glad you like the characters, let me know if I stuff them up too much.

Android Jennifer: Hello! I'm glad you like my story. Elladan and Elrohir say hi (twins wave) and I like your name as well… dbz perhaps? :D Hope you like this chapter too! P.S. Thanks! – me!

Show Jumper: Hi! I went and read/reviewed your story, so far so good! Here is some more story for you!

Stephenie Wilcox (and her coral bracelet): You poor dear! So many terrible things happening to you! Here, have more plushies! hands over millions of plush Haldir toys . Oh, and enclosed is some weights, to help you regain fitness and your yoghurt. I hope the 'woe-ing' will be gone soon and you will feel comforted! But here, have more stories!!!

Please review! Even if it is just a simple 'yea' or 'nay', just to let me know that someone has read this! Thanks!

- Just Curious


	4. Jorinda and Joringel

Welcome back to complete insanity! MWHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! hiccup Whoa, way to much sugar, I think. Look! Pretty bluebells, flying! Woot! Narp. Okay… better get on with the story.

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Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings and all other Middle-Earth goodness belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Though I have Orophin bribed, am still working on Haldir. Obviously he does not appreciate Tim-tams. Oh, and I am not either Grimm brother, so I do not own Jorinda and Joringel.

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Chapter 4 – Jorinda and Joringel

"Look, there is absolutely no danger! I have done it a billion times at home! It will be fine, just give me the rope!' Ashlieth gritted her teeth in frustration as Rúmil still stood there, unmoving. "Look, all I want to do is make a rope-swing over the water. It is perfectly safe, I swear!"

"I'm not sure, My Lady. These things are not to be trifled with-"

"What 'things'? I am making a swing! That's it, just a plain, simple, yet exhilarating, swing. Rúmil, if you don't give me the rope I swear I will… I will…" Ashlieth faltered, wondering what in Middle-Earth she could threaten Rúmil with.

It was two days after her encounter with Naurcom, and Ashlieth had found the perfect tree limb to tie a rope onto, but Rúmil, having never heard of one before, was unsure.

"You will what?" Rúmil smirked.

Suddenly Ashlieth had an idea. She started to play with her hair, twirling it around her finger coyly. "I don't know." She whispered in a barely audible voice. "I suppose I'll just walk up to you," she said, walking up to Rúmil until their faces were almost touching, running her fingers down his chest.

Rúmil gulped and stood there, stock still as she leant closer. "And then I'll just…" she whispered, their faces almost touching, "Take it!" She yelled, wrenching the rope from his grasp and scurrying away, her laughter echoing around the valley.

She climbed nimbly up the tree and walked out on a branch that stretched over the water. Sitting down on it, she attached one end of the rope to the branch, and halfway down the rope she tied a loop, an easy to reach handhold. Dropping the rest of the rope down, Ashlieth shimmied down it and grinned at the still stunned Rúmil.

"What's wrong? Didn't get your kiss? Oh well, I've always been a sucker for cute Elves." She sighed, and walking up to Rúmil, she smacked a quick kiss on his mouth. Pulling back, she turned away, and swung out over the water on her rope swing, screaming in joy as she let go and hit the water.

Rúmil watched her walk off, unable to move, yet his mind was racing. Did she just…? No, Rúmil reasoned with himself. No, she can't have kissed him, it was _him_ they were talking about. But… he reached up and touched where she had kissed him, and a goofy grin came over his face. She really had. Whooping with delight, Rúmil grabbed the rope swing and ran out over the water with it, letting go and landing with a big splash next to Ashlieth, coming back up and dunking her under with a laugh.

"Arg! You'll pay for that, Rúmil!" She spluttered, and he leapt out of the water and ran, laughing as a very enraged Ashlieth came running after him. He ran up the path towards the castle, running slower so Ashlieth was able to catch up. She swiped at him, but he dodged her easily, and not looking where he was going, Rúmil tripped over a sleeping figure, his eyes widening as Ashlieth ran into him, and they fell down onto the slumbering Gimli.

"Get off! Get off you fat lumps!" Gimli roared as he struggled beneath the two elves.

Ashlieth immediately leapt off, but Rúmil took his time, purposely squishing the Dwarf. "I'm sorry Ashlieth, did you hear something?" Rúmil teased. "I thought I heard a squeak, but the voice was so soft it must have been a mere mouse that I heard."

"Get off me, you great oaf!" Gimli bellowed. "I'll show you a mouse, take up your sword and fight me you blaggard!" He fumed, swinging his axe menacingly.

Rúmil laughed and nimbly dodged the weapon, teasing his friend as he did so. Ashlieth laughed at the enraged Dwarf, he reminded her of a bull somewhat. Soon, though, both herself and Rúmil could see that the teasing had gone to far, and backing away Rúmil held up his hands.

"Truce, friend Dwarf. Truce." He asked laughing, and Gimli lowered his axe, his face still incensed.

"You will pay for that yet, Elf. What a way to welcome a guest! If your ladyfriend were not here you would pay now, but instead I will allow you to live only if you introduce us." Gimli bargained.

Ashlieth raised her eyebrows in shock. "Do you not know me, Gimli son of Glóin?" She queried. Gimli frowned, peering at her face intently.

"Your face does seem familiar, Milady. Yet I know not of who it reminds me."

Rúmil burst out laughing. "Then let me introduce you, friend Dwarf. Allow me to present you Lady Ashlieth of Gondolin, daughter of Anárion and Niamh, and ex-fiancée of Naurcom." He added, chuckling.

Ashlieth smiled as she held out her hand. "Yet you may call me Ash." She added, her face animated.

Gimli's eyes widened and his homely face split into a grin. "Ash! Here I've been thinking you were killed, I haven't heard from you. So, you were present when the rascal gave his little speech. Ex-fiancée, you say. Well, that would account for you kissing our poor Rúmil back there then, doesn't it?" He added, roaring with laughter as Rúmil started to blush. "But don't worry, Friend Rúmil. All I saw was you standing stock still, and Ashlieth doing all the work. In my village, it is traditionally the men who kiss the women, not the other way round Rúmil. If you don't mind me saying so, Ash," He winked. "I think you may need to give him a bit more practice, he didn't seem to do much" He laughed.

Rúmil arched an eyebrow. "Oh, and what would Gimli know of such matters? I believe it is said that Dwarf-women run at the sound of your roar and the smell of your breath." He replied, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

Ashlieth burst out in a peel of laughter as Gimli started to blush. "Alright, truce." He muttered, then started to laugh along with the elves. "The sound of my roar, eh? I'll have you know, Elf, that it is the females who roar in my village, and the men who scatter when they do so!" He chortled.

Suddenly a loud bell chimed over the valley, signaling that the main meal was ready. Gimli's stomach growled, and he rubbed it, his face pained. "You two have keep me chattering long enough, let's go eat!" he declared.

Ashlieth smiled. "I agree, and I challenge you both to a race!" She dared.

Gimli shook his head. "No I think not, I am weak from hunger and bruised from were you two landed on me. Also, I do not wish to thrash you both and damage your egos." He declared.

"But I accept your challenge, Ashlieth." Rúmil said. They both placed themselves into running positions, poised to take flight. "Alright, the first one to the door wins, on the count of three." Rúmil set the terms.

Ashlieth nodded, and counted down. "One…two…" and with that she sprinted off, getting a good head start as Rúmil stood there, stunned.

Then he sprinted after her, roaring at her back. "No fair, you cheated! CHEATER!" Ashlieth and Rúmil both laughed as he ran after her, and they disappeared around the path.

"I have never seen Rúmil this joyful before, Gimli son of Glóin." Elrond walked out of the forest and stood beside Gimli.

"Neither have I, my lord." Gimli agreed.

Elrond smiled. "She has never been this happy before either. It is right for them to be together." He declared softly.

"They are meant to be together, are they not my lord?" Gimli asked. Elrond nodded.

"Yes Gimli, it is meant to be. Their fate is with each other, for it is written in the stars."

:::

"Subtle." Ashlieth muttered furiously as she left the dinner table and headed back to her room. "Really subtle. If he didn't suspect something then, he does now! Oh, I've got a good idea Ashlieth, why don't we flirt outrageously with Rumil and then kiss him. Just incase he was really stupid and didn't understand before. I mean, we wouldn't want him to be clueless here, oh no, _that_ would be way too smart. Foolish, foolish girl!"

She continued to have this aggravated chatter all the way to her room after dinner, not noticing that she walked right past Elladan and Elrohir.

"What do you think that's all about?" Elladan asked, his eyes wide. Elrohir shrugged.

"She's lost it at last, poor soul. Had to happen eventually."

"True." Elladan nodded, and the twins walked away unconcerned.

:::

Rúmil watched Ashlieth as she danced with Pippin. She was shocked to find that the Hobbits had never danced the waltz, a traditional Gondorian dance, and immediately took it upon herself to teach them and Rúmil, who had also never waltzed.

It was strange, over the past few months, the friendship between Rúmil and had Ashlieth deepened, until Rúmil and Ashlieth were never seen without each other. He smiled in fondness at her, and watched her try to show Pippin how to turn correctly. It was autumn, and the leaves were falling all around them, the colours complimenting the scene.

"One two three, one two three, there you go, you have it Pippin! Wow, you are fantastic at this, you learn much quicker than myself."

"Well, we have a dance similar to it at home, Milady. And we Tooks are naturally skilled when it comes to footwork." Pippin declared proudly.

"So that why you are able to run away so fast, Pippin Took." Merry accused.

"Nay, not for that, but I am so used to running away from you, Merry, when you are trying to steal my food, that you get quite skilled at it!"

"Hey, I resent that Pippin! Frodo is the greedy one!" Merry declared.

"I am not!"

"Oh, then why was there no breakfast left when I came back from washing, Master Frodo?"

"Because you ate it before you left Sam, you great greedy guts!"

"Alright, alright!" Ashlieth laughed. "You are all greedy pigs, alright? I should know for I served you at dinner last night and all of you had four helping!"

"Oh, that's a bit rough, Milady. It is a known fact that Took's eat much more than any mere Brandybuck!"

Rúmil watched as Ashlieth burst out laughing. Her eyes were so beautiful, a deep green, gentle and kind, yet mischievous and dangerous when they wished to be. Her face was so soft, and her lips… Rúmil blinked in shock.

"Snap out of it!" He told himself. "She is much to charming for the likes of yourself, so don't even go there! Besides, friendship is good, isn't it? It's what you've wanted for so long, a good friend? Remember our motto, _no children!_ I know Middle-Earth can't cope with more than one of us, so let's not even think about her in _that_ way."

Still, he loved her hair, that deep auburn colour, which flew around her expressive face. She was lovely, almost perfect, in every detail, except perhaps her temper and impulsiveness, Rúmil thought wryly. He smiled as he remembered the many times she had been angry with him, sparks flying from her green eyes. He found her just as intriguing then, even more so as he had never meet an Elf who was riled so easily before. It must be her human side, he decided. He remembered when she kissed him…

"I give up! Honestly, I really do! Rúmil, please, save me from these pint-sized terrors!"

Rúmil started out of his thoughts sheepishly, as if she was able to read them. "Pardon?" He asked.

"Come dance with me!" Ashlieth offered, her hands held out invitingly, a wide grin on her face. Standing up, he slowly walked over and took them and pulled her close, the two of them swaying from side to side.

Ashlieth laid her head on Rúmil' chest, inwardly cursing herself for doing so.

'_Ashlieth, just friends, remember!'_

'But he's so comforting, so strong.'

'Odd that, him being a Marchwarden.'

'But…'

She had never felt so safe in her life as she did now, and she just wished she could stay there forever.

__

'Physically impossible.'

'Well, I can at least try…'

So she did.

Pippin and Merry nudged each other as they watched the Elves dance, both Elves holding each other close, Ashlieth's head on Rúmil' chest. Sam sniffed, thinking of his Rosie.

Frodo just watched, amazed at it all. He had never though Rúmil could fall in love, but here he was, dancing in the sunlight with Ash. Slowly he turned and beckoned the others away, and they left the couple silently.

Some time later Ashlieth felt Rúmil' hand let go of her and pull something out of her hair and she lifted her head curiously. "Leaf." He explained, holding the offending object in his hand. She smiled, and slowly pulled away from him, reluctantly.

Rúmil' whole body cried out as she pulled away. She had been so comfortable, fitting perfectly in with his body. Unwillingly he let her go, and they turned and walked back to the castle. As they reached the doors, Ashlieth gave Rúmil a hug. "Thank you, Rúmil."

"For what?" He asked her.

"For being my friend."

High above them, watching from his balcony, Lord Elrond smiled.

:::

Ashlieth flopped onto her bed and pulled her book out from her bedside table. It was an old, worn book of fairy tales, with beautiful illustrations to accompany each story. They were tales of handsome kings, evil queens, dashing Princes and beautiful maidens. Each story ended just as it should, with a 'happily ever after', the lovers together and the wicked dead. Ashlieth sighed, wishing her own story was a fairy tale. "For it is about time my Prince came dashing in, he is long overdue!" She declared, and straightaway a knock sounded on her door. "Nice timing." She mused, then called out. "Come in if you are a dashing Prince who has come to whisk me away… or if it is Rúmil!" She added on as an afterthought.

Rúmil opened the door and walked in, a pout on his face. "I though I was your dashing Prince!" he grumbled. "You kissed me and everything. I even learnt to dance for you."

Ashlieth laughed at her friend's antics. "You are better than that, you are my bestest friend in the whole of Middle-Earth! The one who is always there, even when the ugly Naurcom-monster rears its head!" She laughed, inviting Rúmil to sit on her bed.

He sat down next to her and picked up her book. "Grimm's Fairy Tales. What is this?" He asked her curiously. Ashlieth dropped her jaw.

"Rúmil, surely you have head of Grimm's Fairy Tales?" she asked him.

Rúmil shook his head. "Never heard of them. What is a Fairy Tale?" He asked.

Ashlieth grinned and pushed him back so he was lying onto the bed. Sitting up, she opened the book to her favorite story. "Listen." She commanded him, then read to him the tale of **Jorinda and Joringel**

__

"There was once an old castle in the midst of a large and dense forest, and in it an old woman who was a witch dwelt all alone. In the day-time she changed herself into a car or a screech-owl, but in the evening she took her proper shape again as a human being. She could lure wild beasts and birds to her, and then she killed and boiled and roasted them. If anyone came within one hundred paces of the castle he was obliged to stand still, and could not stir from the place until she bade him be free. But whenever an innocent maiden came within this circle, she changed her into a bird, and shut her up in a wicker-work cage, and carried the cage into a room in the castle. She had about seven thousand cages of rare birds in the castle.

Now, there was once a maiden who was called Jorinda, who was fairer than all other girls. She and a handsome youth named Joringel had promised to marry each other. They were still in the days of betrothal, and their greatest happiness was being together. One day in order that they might be able to talk together in peace they went for a walk in the forest.

'Take care,' said Joringel, 'that you do not go too near the castle.' It was a beautiful evening. The sun shone brightly between the trunks of the trees into the dark green of the forest, and the turtle-doves sang mournfully upon the beech trees, yet Jorinda wept now and then. She sat down in the sunshine and was sorrowful. Joringel was sorrowful too. They were as sad as if they were about to die. Then they looked around them, and were quite at a loss, for they did not know by which way they should go home.

The sun was still half above the mountain and half under. Joringel looked through the bushes, and saw the old walls of the castle close at hand. He was horror-stricken and filled with deadly fear. Jorinda was singing;

My little bird, with the necklace red,

Sings sorrow, sorrow, sorrow,

He sings that the dove must soon be dead,

Sings sorrow, sor - jug, jug, jug.

Joringel looked for Jorinda. She was changed into a nightingale, and sang, 'jug, jug, jug'. A screech-owl with glowing eyes flew three times round about her, and three times cried, 'to-whoo, to-whoo, to-whoo'. Joringel could not move. He stood there like a stone, and could neither weep nor speak, nor move hand or foot.

The sun had now set. The owl flew into the thicket, and directly afterwards there came out of it a crooked old woman, yellow and lean, with large red eyes and a hooked nose, the point of which reached to her chin. She muttered to herself, caught the nightingale, and took it away in her hand. Joringel could neither speak nor move from the spot. The nightingale was gone.

At last the woman came back, and said in a hollow voice, 'greet you, Zachiel. If the moon shines on the cage, Zachiel, let him loose at once'. Then Joringel was freed. He fell on his knees before the woman and begged that she would give him back his Jorinda, but she said that he should never have her again, and went away. He called, he wept, he lamented, but all in vain, hooh, what is to become of me? Joringel went away, and at last came to a strange village, where he kept sheep for a long time. He often walked round and round the castle, but not too near to it.

At last he dreamt one night that he found a blood-red flower, in the middle of which was a beautiful large pearl. That he picked the flower and went with it to the castle, and that everything he touched with the flower was freed from enchantment. He also dreamt that by means of it he recovered his Jorinda.

In the morning, when he awoke, he began to seek over hill and dale for such a flower. He sought until the ninth day, and then, early in the morning, he found the blood-red flower. In the middle of it there was a large dew-drop, as big as the finest pearl. Day and night he journeyed with this flower to the castle. When he was within a hundred paces of it he was not held fast, but walked on to the door. Joringel was full of joy. He touched the door with the flower, and it sprang open. He walked in through the courtyard, and listened for the sound of the birds. At last he heard it. He went on and found the room from whence it came, and there the witch was feeding the birds in the seven thousand cages. When she saw Joringel she was angry, very angry, and scolded and spat poison and gall at him, but she could not come within two paces of him. He did not take any notice of her, but went and looked at the cages with the birds. But there were many hundred nightingales, how was he to find his Jorinda again?

Just then he saw the old woman quietly take away a cage with a bird in it, and go towards the door. Swiftly he sprang towards her, touched the cage with the flower, and also the old woman. She could now no longer bewitch anyone. And Jorinda was standing there, clasping him round the neck, and she was as beautiful as ever. Then all the other birds were turned into maidens again, and he went home with his Jorinda, and they lived happily ever after."

Ashlieth's voice trailed off as she finished reading the tale, and the room was filled with silence.

"That is a fairy story, is it?" Rúmil asked. Ashlieth nodded.

"Yes, it is. And they always end 'happily ever after'. Unlike real life." She added, her voice soft.

Rúmil remained thoughtful. "Why do you not believe it will end happily ever after? Have you no faith in life?" He asked her curiously.

Ashlieth snorted. "Yes, I have great faith in life, in something which kicks you whilst you are down and then laughs in your face. I have _great_ faith in that." She broke off, and Rúmil stared at her, shocked at the bitterness in her voice.

"Why do you have such little faith?" Rúmil asked softly, taking one of her small hands in his large one. Ashlieth sniffed slightly, turning her head to look out the window.

"I have never met one person who has had a 'happily ever after'. My father… my father loves not my mother, though she is devoted to him. He forces her to do nothing but help him find immortality, her has taken her bright spirit and crushed it, slowly. My brother… oh Valar!"

Ashlieth bowed her head and covered her eyes with her one free hand, trying to stifle the tears that flowed between her fingers. Rúmil pulled her close to him, allowing her to bury her head in his chest, smoothing her hair and whispering to her.

After a time, Ashlieth calmed down, and pulled away slightly. "I am sorry, it seems I do nothing but cry these days." She said, giving Rúmil a wobbly grin.

"Is that such a terrible thing? You have lost much."

"Have I? I have lost Meneldil, it is true, but there are other's who have lost far more than I."

They sat there in silence, Rúmil silently encouraging Ashlieth to go on. After a time, she did.

Taking a deep breath, she continued her tale. "My brother, Meneldil, was an beautiful elf. He was taller than me, though not quite your height, and much broader with fiery red hair and a wide smile. He was so strong, yet gentle. He protected me from father on many occasions. My brother was the only one who could stand up to him, to not fear his wrath." Ashlieth chuckled slightly, sniffing.

"Meneldil could light up a room with his kind smile, his compassionate eyes. All who knew him respected him, he was a natural leader. And he died. My brother was killed. By _Yrch._ He did not deserve such a death Rúmil. He was not meant to die. He was an elf." She whispered, clutching Rúmil hand in hers. Then, in a voice barely picked up by Rúmil's sensitive ear, Ashlieth whispered, "He promised he would come home."

A long silence followed, Rúmil wondering just how best to reply. Finally he spoke. "I knew your brother, but for a short time. He joined our band of Elves as we traveled to Helm's Deep. I talked with him for a time, and he spoke of those he loved." Rúmil paused to gather his thoughts.

"He did not seem, Ashlieth, like the type of brother who would want you to give up, because he is dead. Ashlieth, your destiny is not determined by Meneldil's. It is a tragic tale, to be sure, and gladly would I give my life to see this pain taken from you, but your fate is not the same as his. Sometimes, Arwenamin, Valar gives us the chance to take our happy ending, if only we could see it. Who knows," Rúmil laughed, "your happy ending may be staring you in the face, and all we have to do is find it." His voiced dropped off to a whisper, sending shivers down Ashlieth spine.

Ashlieth closed her eyes briefly as she felt Rúmil's lips right near her ear, his breath on her cheek. She could feel his strong arms wrapped around her, and prayed that he could not feel the heat of a blush radiating from her ears. Her breath caught in her throat, and Ashlieth wished he would just lean in, just kiss her, and then, for the briefest moment, Ashlieth was sure that Rúmil leant in to do that, and she tilted her head fractionally. But then he placed his cheek on hers, and she leant her head on his.

Ashlieth smiled softly. "Maybe it's true." She whispered. "Maybe I can have my happily ever after."

"Of course you can!" Rúmil exclaimed leaping off the bed and grabbing her hand. Excited, he pulled her out of the room and loudly down the flight of stairs, heading towards the exit.

"Rúmil, where are we going?" She laughed, trying not to trip on her skirt.

"To find your happy ending!" He exclaimed, and pulled her even faster along. Ashlieth smiled in a bemused way, curious to find out where they were going. It was dark outside, and they slowed to a walk as Rúmil lead Ashlieth through the trees.

"Here we are." He whispered as they stopped beside a tree, which was growing at the bottom of a cliff.

"Why are we here?" Ashlieth whispered back, and Rúmil smiled at her.

"Watch." He commanded, and walking over to the tree, still holding her hand, he used his other hand to feel the rough bark. Finding what he wanted, he placed his long fingers into a gap in the bark and pulled it away, revealing a small spiral staircase.

"Here." He whispered, smiling at her, and he walked up the stairs with Ashlieth following behind him.

"How did you find this?" Ashlieth asked, her hand in his as he lead her up the stairs. Rúmil chuckled.

"It was Elrond's twins who showed me many years ago. We put the stairs in it, but until tonight I had forgotten all about it." He told her, his voice full of far-away memories.

It was pitch black inside, only Rúmil' keen eyes kept them safe from the missing stairs. Ashlieth shuddered as a cold shiver ran up her spine, listening to Rúmil' light footsteps and his commands to leap over a certain step where the board had rotted away. Suddenly they came to the top of the tree, and they followed a plank from a branch over to the cliff.

Ashlieth stood, amazed at the view she had. It was the world outside of Rivendell, she could see for many leagues. "It's magical." She whispered, her voice filled with emotion. The stars were like small magical lights, twinkling so close it seemed that all Ashlieth had to do was reach out and touch them. The moon cast a soft glimmer on the river and gleamed through the trees. All of Rivendell seemed to have a gentle radiance on this night, and the sight made Ashlieth fill with peace, comfort, a security she had not felt before.

"It's your happily ever after, just yours." He whispered back, standing close behind her.

Ashlieth smiled, and gazed at the tranquil night all around her. "Then I want to share it with you."

Rúmil laughed. "The view, or the happily ever after?" He asked cheekily.

Ashlieth turned and placed her arms around his neck. "Both." She whispered, then leant in and kissed him. Rúmil' eyes widened, this was unexpected! He pulled away and took a step back, shock written on his face. Ashlieth blinked, hurt in her eyes.

"That wasn't what I meant… I wasn't asking you or anything… honestly!" Rúmil stammered.

Ashlieth felt her heart plummet into her feet. "Oh." She whispered, then turned around, her eyes burning with tears. Had she read him wrong? Was he really only there to keep his promise to her mother? Angrily she wiped her face, now was not the time to be crying, idiot! She cursed herself, then hurried off to climb back down the tree.

Rúmil mentally slapped himself. _Rúmil, he scolded himself, you have wanted to kiss her now for how long? Was that not the purpose of tonight, to charm her? And when she kisses you, you say 'thanks, but no thanks'. Brilliant move, Oh mighty Warden!!_

His heart was heavy as she turned away, but then he frowned in determination. He was not going to let her get away, not now. Running after the hastily departing Ashlieth, he caught up to her and spun her around. Cupping her face in his hands he pulled her forward and kissed her soundly on the lips. He smiled as he felt Ashlieth's arms encircle his neck, and he continued to kiss her for a long time, his arms falling around her waist.

When they finally broke apart, Rúmil grinned. "Sorry, I just felt it was time to take Gimli's advice and deliver a kiss, rather than be on the receiving end!" he chuckled, and she joined in, their foreheads touching as they laughed. Rúmil moved his head back, smiling at Ashlieth.

"Guess what?" He asked her.

Ashlieth raised her eyebrows. "What?" She asked in return.

Rúmil grinned. "You love me!"

Ashlieth eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Rúmil laughed loudly and kissed her on the nose, and she arched an eyebrow.

Still laughing, Rúmil plopped himself onto the ground and patted the grass next to him. With a slight sniff Ashlieth went to turn her back on him, but suddenly yawned and gave in. Curling up on the grass next to him, she mumbled goodnight and went to sleep.

Rúmil glanced fondly down at her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then lay himself back and thanked Eru for his good fortune.

:::

"It is strange," Rúmil mused. "I have lived in Middle-Earth for years, too many to count, quite content with my life and one day a Peredhil walks into my life and I wonder how I ever lived without her." He glanced down at the sleeping girl in his arms, a picture he saw often but could never tire off.

"Only one thing could make this better." He murmured quietly. "If she were awake to talk to me." For that was when he enjoyed life the most. Every night, Ashlieth and Rúmil would come to the top of this cliff and talk for hours and hours, about everything and nothing. About their families, games, their individual lives. Rúmil had discovered that Ashlieth had a huge 'inner child' as she put it, and he spent long periods of time laughing at her antics.

And so the night would go on, until Ashlieth was too tired to keep awake any longer, at which point she would curl up into Rúmil and fall asleep. When dawn broke over the hill, he would pick her up and carry her home, placing her in her bed to get a few more hours sleep.

__

"You know, it's a good thing you have that Elvish grace about you!" Ashlieth had once remarked. _"Had it been the other way around, I would have tripped over and dropped you down the stairs long ago!"_

"Note to self: Never let Ashlieth carry the baby." He had mused in return, ducking her swat and grinning until he realised what he had said, Ashlieth's ears blushing bright red. He had coughed a few times, changed the subject and it had never been mentioned since.

"However," Rúmil grinned slightly. "I think I may need to change this." It had been many months since they had first come up here, and it was soon time for Rúmil to go back to Lothlórien. He had not told her yet, he was trying to keep her spirits as high as possible. "Tomorrow." He promised Ashlieth. "I will tell you tomorrow."

:::

"Ashlieth," Rúmil began. It was the following evening and true to his word, Rúmil was going to tell Ashlieth. "Ashlieth, I have to tell you something."

Ashlieth's eyes widened in panic. "You're married?"

Rúmil's looked at her, confused. "No-"

"Engaged?"

"No."

"A hobbit?"

"No!" He looked slightly shocked at that one.

"Going to die?"

"No." He told her firmly.

"Pregnant?"

"What?"

Ashlieth shrugged sheepishly. "Well, that would be pretty terrible, don't you think?" She grinned slightly and Rúmil rolled his eyes.

"Yes, it would be bad, but let me finish!" Rúmil sighed. "Ashlieth, I have to go back to Lothlórien soon." He said, watching Ashlieth's face drop.

"Oh." She said, her shoulders slumped.

Rúmil waited for something else. "Just 'oh'?" He asked. Ashlieth looked up at him and gave a half-hearted smile.

"At least your not pregnant." She said, and Rúmil laughed, his ears blushing.

"No, that would cause problems, wouldn't it?" He winked and she gave a tiny laugh, but then she looked away, her eyes welling.

Rúmil looked desperate. "Ashlieth, that's not all I have to tell you." He said, taking her hands. Ashlieth sniffed at bit.

"Do I want to know this?" She asked warily.

"That depends. Ashlieth, I love you." He said seriously.

Ashlieth's eyes widened, and she stared at him for a while. Then she threw her arms around him and kissed him soundly, unable to prevent a grin spreading across her face.

After a few moments of bliss she pulled away, blushing. "I love you so much!" She told him happily, kissing him again on her nose. Then she leapt up and spun around a bit doing an awkward dance and yelling, "He loves meeeeeeeeee!" to the world. Then she ran back and sat in front of him, her eyes sparkling.

"You know, I should tell you I love you more often." Rúmil remarked, a crazy smile on his face.

"Yes you should." Ashlieth grinned and Rúmil leant over and kissed her again, savouring her taste for a long time.

"And now, my love," Ashlieth blushed as she said this. "You may go back to Lothlórien with my blessing."

"Why do you let me leave?"

"Because now I know that you are not going to forget about me and run away and fall in love with a real elf."

"It's a good idea…" Rúmil mused, then frowned. "But it has one fatal flaw. I love you, half-elf or no."

"Thank you." Ashlieth whispered, resting her head on his chest. "Thank you."

:::

****

Footnotes:

Yrch = oh, please tell me you know what this means! (Orcs)

Arwenamin = My Lady , (familiar)

Reviewer Replies:

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Android Jennifer: Glad you like it. Surprisingly enough, I am particularly fond of Naurcom, thought I have no idea why. Anyway, he gets splatted later.

**Crecy**: Your wish is my command… glad you like the story!****

Crimson7319: I'll let you in on a secret… I wrote a lot of this first before I put it online… Thanks you for reading, it really helps!

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Nayana: I'm glad you like my footnotes, and you're wish is my command!

And Last, but very not least: **MERRY LAD**! I'm glad you are still here, thanks for sticking it through! Let me know how this chap is, I don't really like it. Too… Sue-like. Ah well.

Sooo, R&R and PLEASE tell me what is wrong with this! I need criticism! Honestly, I can't improve without knowing what's wrong, so please let me know!

Oh, and go and review my other story 'Fragile' please, because you love me! :D

See? Down

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there! :D


	5. Asca!

**A/N**: Hey, Welcome back peoples! Missed me, didn't you? ;) I knew it. Another take-forever-to-put-up chapter, but please don't be disheartened! You love me for it anyway, eh?

**Disclaimer: **(Insert typical disclaimer, am too depressed to write one as Rúmil scorned my offerings of Sakatas. Sigh...)

**Chapter 5 – Asca!**

"And so it has been decreed that children between the ages of 5 and 7 are to have basic weapon skills training, both male and female alike." Elrond declared.

_Great. When the Orcs attack we will scare them off with our pint-sized terrors!_

Rúmil wrote on a piece of paper and poked Ashlieth, grinning across the table at her as she bit her lip in amusement whilst she read it. Encouraged, he took another piece of paper and scribbled more onto it.

_When great evil threatens to take over Middle-Earth, our army of midgets will poke them with sticks and call them names like 'ugly-head', thus saving us all! _

He grinned cheekily as Ashlieth pressed her hand to her mouth to stop herself from laughing aloud. Then, discretely grabbing a pen she wrote something on the paper in a quick motion and pushed it back towards Rúmil.

_Rúmil, quit it! I swear if you make me laugh, you will regret it! _It warned.

With this encouragement Rúmil continued.

_In fact, that could be our banner! 'They may be small, but watch your ankles: they bite!' _

Rúmil grinned as he sent it across.

Ashlieth couldn't help it; she snorted into her hand, trying not to burst out laughing. Elrond heard this and fixed his gaze on her, his eyebrow raised. "Have you anything to add to this discussion, Lady Ashlieth?" He asked pointedly.

Ashlieth gulped. "Actually I have, my lord." She said, rising up and giving Rúmil a 'you-asked-for-this' look.

"My lord, it was just yesterday that myself and Marchwarden Rúmil were discussing this important issue, after you had sent out the news of today's decree. Indeed, Lord Rúmil said that he would very much like to take an active role in this training, he mentioned something about a small army, is that not so, Lord Rúmil?" She asked him, eyebrows raised, ignoring the death looks he was sent her.

Elrond looked pleased, smiling at Rúmil. "Indeed, Marchwarden of Lothlórien! That is a great honor for the children, to have such a great hero teach them in the ways of war. I wish to thank you from the bottom of my heart." Elrond smiled warmly at Rúmil.

Rúmil stood up and bowed, glaring at Ashlieth. "Indeed it is my pleasure, Lord Elrond. Nothing is more important than the training of our young. Yet if girls are to be present, they may also need a female teacher, and I ask Lady Ashlieth to accompany me in this training." He proposed, grinning wickedly. Ashlieth smiled sweetly back.

"I would love to, Marchwarden Rúmil, yet I am not skilled in the ways of war." She pointed out, hoping that Rúmil and Elrond would forget the fact that she was part of the Great War. They did not.

"Come, come Lady Ashlieth. We know that you are an accomplished archer and you come through the Great War with hardly a scratch!" Elrond reprimanded her.

"Hardly a scratch!" Ashlieth replied indignantly as the council burst out laughing. Soon she saw the funny side and grinned, both herself and Rúmil sitting down as the council continued.

:::

"Do you realise what you have gotten us into?" Rúmil inquired.

"What I have gotten us into? I don't think so, _Marchwarden _Rúmil, you made me laugh, I had to come up with something!" Ashlieth shot back as they walked through the gardens. Rúmil raised an eyebrow.

"Oh I see, it was my fault? Personally I think it was an endeavor on your part to make me stay here!" Rúmil sighed,

"_Make_ you remain here, why Rúmil whatever do you mean?" She asked innocently.

"I got another letter from Haldir, demanding me to return home to Lothlórien, yet now I am training the ankle-biters, I will be able to stay!" He brightened. Ashlieth laughed and ruffled his hair.

"I hope you are not this against your own children!" she laughed, and Rúmil stopped walking, suddenly turning pale. Ashlieth grinned. "Rúmil, surely you have considered that you may one day have children?" She asked him.

Rúmil shook his head slowly. Him, a father? He shuddered, he would make the worst father, he had no idea how to handle children and he repeated these thoughts to Ashlieth.

"Well, now is your chance to find out!" Ashlieth told him, then she smiled. "You'll make a fine father." She encouraged him.

"I love you." He smiled at her.

"I know." Ashlieth replied airily, smirking at Rúmil who merely rolled his eyes.

:::

"I can't stand it! No more, I swear or I will die!" Ashlieth growled in frustration as she dogged arrows that flew at random. "Rúmil!" She yelled, picking up a crying elf child as she looked for him.

"Over here!" A muffled voice called. Ashlieth turned around to see a mountain of small elves move suddenly, and they all giggled as Rúmil sat up, disturbing them all. They fell off him and he grinned at them, standing up and rubbing his bruised back.

"Are we not coping, Lady Ashlieth?" He called out, smiling at her discomfort. Ashlieth frowned back at him whilst trying to comfort the weeping child.

"I would cope fine if it were ten, or twenty children we had to teach- Shush, there there sweetie - But fifty is much too many, we cannot give them undivided attention. We need to do something about this!" She yelled back at him, watching as once more he disappeared under a pile of young Elves, her frown replaced with a smile. Rúmil was fantastic with the children, able to give them each the attention they required and his keen eyes could see any trouble that was about to occur.

Ashlieth sighed, she had never realised what _Telella_ with wooden swords could do. How many countless tears had been shed that day?

"Rúmil, a quick note to myself: Next time I try to get revenge on you, stop me!" Ashlieth asked him. She could almost feel him smirk as he called back out to her.

"Ashlieth, when you are on a mission, nothing or no one can stop you. I tried, but you refused to listen to me!" He pointed out.

"Well then, you are not just a pretty face, are you?" Ashlieth replied cheekily as Rúmil laughed.

Soon dusk had come and many parents had come to collect their children. Soon only a handful were left, and Ashlieth and Rúmil knew they had to take these ones back to the House and their parents.

"I'll take Tamòri and Nàthital back to their mother, if you can return Lord Monthil's children back to him." Ashlieth said. Rúmil nodded.

"Of course, shall I meet you afterwards?" He inquired. Ashlieth shook her head.

"No, Alurani and I are fitting her new dress tonight, but I will see you tomorrow?" She asked him. Rúmil nodded.

"But of course!" He said, coming up to her and kissing her softly. "Goodnight!" He whispered, amongst the groans of the little Elves. He grinned at her, and they took their wards and went their separate ways.

:::

After dropping of the two elves to their parents, Ashlieth began walking back to the room in the Last Homely House in which Alurani lived. The night was cool, and she was pulling her wrap closer around her shoulders when she heard a twig snap in the bushes. Ashlieth paused, her senses on guard. Soon she continued on, walking faster this time, yet she could sense someone behind her. Faster and faster she walked, until she was running down the pathway, the figure close behind her. Turning around to see who it was that pursued her, Ashlieth ran into something hard. "Oof!" She cried out, about to fall backwards until the 'something' grabbed her, placing a firm hand on her mouth.

"Not a word, if you value your life." It hissed, close to her ear. Ashlieth's eyes grew wide in shock, and she grabbed her attackers handscreaming out to Rúmil as she tried to pull it away.

"Rúmil! Help me!" She screamed frantically against his hand, yet all she could hear was emptiness. "Rúmil!" She cried again, yet still she could hear nothing.

"I would not bother to try and call for your '_love_." The voice threatened. "He was dealt with before were came to get you." The voice told her. "Of course we could not kill him, we did not want to spill blood in this forest. So his is 'taking a rest' somewhere in the forest." The voice snarled, then chuckled. "I must admit, he put up a brave fight. But there is safety in numbers, and we far outnumbered him."

_No, Rúmil! _Ashlieth thought, her heart filled with rage from concern for him and she struggled violently.

The voice laughed, hissing in her ear. Then it stopped, and grabbed her by the arm, releasing her mouth. "Come now, silently" He commanded her.

Ashlieth shook her head. "What if I don't want to?" She asked defiantly, though her insides were trembling with fear.

The being tightened its grip, its voice cutting the night like a knife. "I would hate for others to die because of your screams!" It told her. Ashlieth stood, shocked. Then the figure pulled her along quickly through the night. As they came closer to the borders of Rivendell, a small figure burst out of the bush. Ashlieth gasped as a young elf named Alrad came closer.

"Evening miss, nice night for a ... hello, what are you doing with Lady Ashlieth?" Alrad asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Alrad, get out of here!" Ashlieth called to him. "Run Alrad, or he will kill you!" She begged, but Alrad just shook his head.

"I don't think so Miss, not until you come with me!" He added firmly, taking his dagger out of its sheath and staring at the creature that was holding onto her.

"Don't be a fool, boy!" The voice hissed. "Run while you still have life... think of your poor parents!"

Ashlieth's eyes narrowed when she heard the bitter way in which he said this, something about it seemed so familiar... "Naurcom?" she said softly, then turned and faced the beast. "Naurcom!" She cried out, and Naurcom turned his face to hers.

"Indeed it is, Rusvamir." He sneered. Alrad's eyes grew to the size of saucepans. "Lord Naurcom!" He stuttered out, yet Naurcom paid him no head.

"Alrad, run! Find Rúmil! He is in the forest-" Ashlieth was cut off by a hand on her mouth.

"Now dearest, remember what I said? No screaming for help!" He warned her, and as he did so Alrad ran off into the scrub, running as hard and as quietly as he could.

Naurcom snarled at her and pulled her roughly out of Rivendell, Ashlieth's mind filled with nothing but thoughts of Rúmil.

"Rúmil, please be alright." She whispered as she followed Naurcom into the foothills of the Misty Mountains.

:::

Alrad ran for all he was worth. He hated leaving Lady Ashlieth in the hands of that creature, but he knew he could do nothing against Naurcom, and so he ran faster, wondering how he was going to find Rúmil. He ran through the forest, looking in every nook and cranny he could think off, yet no signs of the Elf. Breathless from searching, Alrad scolded himself constantly, in a vain hope that would help him find Rúmil quicker.

"Now think hard, Alrad." He told himself between breaths. "If I were Rúmil, where would I be?" He pondered. But Alrad was not the Marchwarden, and so he continued to run without a destination.

:::

Ashlieth's teeth chattered in fear. Once they had reached the outskirts of Rivendell, Naurcom had shoved her on a horse, and swinging up behind her, they, with five other men, had galloped off towards the south. Fanatically Ashlieth had tried to talk to Naurcom, but to no avail. Finally she could no longer stand the silence.

"Where are we going Naurcom?" Ashlieth asked him curiously. Naurcom smiled grimly. "To the south, Rusvamir. To Gondor." He told her.

Ashlieth raised her eyebrows. "To Gondor, Naurcom?" She asked, surprised. He nodded.

"Indeed."

Ashlieth narrowed her eyes. "Why, Naurcom?" She asked, trying to figure out what tricks Naurcom was up to.

"To be wed, Rusvamir." He replied, catching Ashlieth as she tried to leap off the horse. "Where do you think you are going?" He asked her, Ashlieth struggling furiously.

"Let me off! Now! I refuse to marry you Naurcom, for all I care you can go leap off a cliff! I will not marry you!" She screamed. Naurcom said nothing but continued to ride forward. Ashlieth grabbed the reins of the horse off Naurcom and turned it around, trying to leap out of his grasp. He wrenched the reins back off her, and chopped her on the back of her neck with his hand, sending her into unconsciousness.

"Wake up, Mister Rúmil, come on sir, please wake up!" Alrad urged an unconscious Rúmil, shaking him fervently. "Come on Sir, Ashlieth is in trouble!"

Slowly Rúmil' eyes opened, and he winced as a rush of pain came over him. Gently he sat up, rubbing his head in pain. Then his eyes flew open as he realised what had happened. "What did you say, Alrad?" Rúmil asked him.

"Rúmil sir, Ashlieth has been stolen!" Alrad blurted out.

"Stolen! By who, were did they take her?" Rúmil urged.

"Lord Naurcom sir-"

"Naurcom!" Rúmil yelled. _No, not Naurcom, anyone but him_. "Where did he take her Alrad?"

"I don't know, sir. I ran to find you so that you could help her." Alrad told him, hanging his head in shame.

Rúmil groaned. She could be anywhere by now, who knows where Naurcom had taken her. Foolish, foolish elf! When trouble had struck, when Naurcom had come, he had left Ashlieth alone. He had practically given her to Naurcom on a silver plate. He had broken his promise to Niamh. Stupid Elf!

He groaned again, then leapt up. "Alrad, show me where you left her." He commanded, and ran off after the scrambling Elf.

Alrad lead him around the forest, until they came to the place where he had last seen Ashlieth. Rúmil walked around, his keen eyes searching for any sign or print. Quickly he spotted footprints and they followed them for quite some time.

"Well Alrad, it appears they left, going South-East. Come, we must hurry." Rúmil commanded, and both Alrad and Rúmil ran back to Elrond's home, in their haste almost bowling Legolas over.

"Rúmil, watch your- what is wrong?" Legolas asked his friend. Quickly Rúmil poured the entire story out, and had it been under better circumstances, Legolas would have hugged his friend when he found out about Ashlieth. Instead he ran with them to the Last Homely House.

In his distress, it took Rúmil a while before he asked Legolas why he was here.

"I came to annoy you, of course." Legolas half-joked as they raced through the corridors.

Rapidly packing bags, Rúmil told Elrond briefly of their mission.

"That is grave news indeed. I will send warriors with you Rúmil, so that you are able to quickly stop any dishonorable deeds." Elrond told him. Rúmil bowed.

"Thank you, Lord Elrond, but I fear that they would only slow us down. I ask that only I go-"

"And I, Lord Elrond." Legolas added, standing beside his friend. Rúmil smiled gratefully at the Mirkwood Elf and continued.

"I ask that we be given the swiftest horses possible, so that we are able to catch them before we lose their trail." He asked, Elrond nodding his approval. Soon Rúmil and Legolas rode out of Rivendell, following Ashlieth's path.

:::

Ashlieth felt a wave of nausea flood over her when she woke up, her head throbbed constantly and the galloping horse was jolting her body.

"Ah, awake at last, Rusvamir?" Naurcom asked and Ashlieth tried to focus on his face.

"Sort of." She mumbled, watching the world swim. She shut her eyes briefly as her predicament came back to her. _Married... that's not good. Actually, that is quite a problem. Think Ashlieth, think like you have never thought before. What did Meriadoc and Peregrin do? What was that spiffy quote of Aragorn's that Gimli mentioned on the way to Mordor? 'Not idly do the Leaves of Lorien fall.' Well, that's all fine and dandy, but I doubt they'll see my..._ Ashlieth felt around in her hair. _My hair pin in amongst the grass._ _No, I need a bigger sign, one that preferable screams 'HELP ME!'. But what... Ahhh! _

Ashlieth wriggled her foot inside her slipper as they rode, it was red in colour and hopefully would stand out against the green grass. _Easy, easy... there! _She smirked in satisfaction as the slipper fell off her foot. _Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Naurcom! _Will no further complaints she rode along, but it wasn't long until one of Naurcom's lackeys rode up next to them.

"The lady dropped this, Naurcom." The man said as he held out a red slipper.

At that moment, a word that would make any elf blush formed at the back of Ashlieth's mind.

:::

They had ridden hard for many days, Rúmil pushing the horses laboriously, yet they were unable to catch up with Naurcom. "His beast must be those of Rohan!" Legolas called out. Rúmil nodded, concerned. Though the horses of the Elves were fast, they could not compare to the lightning speed of the Horses of Rohan. Ashlieth was some distance in front of him. He did not know if he could catch them in time for whatever dead Naurcom had planned... no, he had to! He pushed his horse faster, he would not let Naurcom win!

Ashlieth blanched visibly as Minas Tirith came into view, they had been riding for many weeks, yet still she had no prepared herself for this moment. It was a tall, foreboding castle, with no life in it. Its white walls rose, higher than the sky it seemed, and as they rode through the gates hollow men opening them for the Lord Naurcom.

_The men are scared. They are still wary of strangers. How hard it must be for them to let in someone as obviously evil as Naurcom! All we need to give this Elf is a Ring of Power, and I'd say we would have another contender for Middle-Earth domination. I wonder if he has a cape? _Ashlieth mused, almost chuckling.

Through the city they rode, up many flights until they reached the top, where a sapling of a white tree stood in front of a long hall.

They rode straight up to the huge wooden door at the front, Naurcom hoping off. "Rusvamir?" He offered, holding out his hand to Ashlieth. She looked at it, disgusted, and slapped it away. She turned her head and remained on the horse, refusing to get off. Snarling Naurcom grabbed her hair and yanked on it, pulling her off the horse and onto the stone ground. She shouted out and clutched her head as she fell, landing solidly on her hip. She cried out again in pain, then stood up slowly, glaring at Naurcom. He merely smirked back and grabbed her arm, pulling her into the castle.

_Note to self: Don't refuse the easy way off the horse. Falling is not dignified. _

Ashlieth gasped as they walked inside, huge statues glared down at her, long dead ancestors displaying a cold wrath. Naurcom threw her to one side of the hall and strode down it on his own. For a few moment he conferred with a man who was standing down the other end, Ashlieth squinted hard to see who it was. _Stupid human eyesight._ It didn't seem to be the King, the man did not hold the same stance as Elessar.

After a few moments, Naurcom came back to where Ashlieth sat and pulled her up, taking her back out of the hall and pushing her towards the horse.

"Get on." He snarled, and Ashlieth almost refused, but at that point her hip gave another sharp pain, and humbly she got onto the horse, Naurcom swinging on behind her. For sometime they rode down the tiers of the City until they reach a small, dark inn. Grabbing her, Ashlieth and Naurcom went quickly inside. With a bang, Naurcom threw some coins onto the table in front of the innkeeper.

"A room. We only want it for a short time." He snapped, and Ashlieth froze. _Oh no you don't!_ As quietly as she could, Ashlieth started to walk away from Naurcom and towards the door. _Just another inch, just another inch. Slowly, slowly..._ Ashlieth's hand reached for the doorknob when Naurcom grabbed her shoulder and snarled.

"Not this time, Rusvamir."

Naurcom pulled her down a long and winding staircase and into a room. "Your room." He told her.

"In the next room there is a bath, use it. We will be married in one hour, giving us plenty of time to be wed before the 'Calvary' arrives." He winked at her, only to be met with an icy stare. Frowning, he turned and briskly left the room, and Ashlieth could hear it lock after him. Without hesitation, Ashlieth also did the bolts on the inside of the door up, hoping that they were of better quality than the rest of the Inn.

For a moment Ashlieth stood still, her mind racing as she tried to keep calm. "This is not good, this is really not good." She muttered as she started to pace the room, wringing her hands in panic.

However, as she walked something caught her eye, and she walked swiftly over to the window and peered out. The window was part of the wall! As she gazed out, she could see all the surrounding lands, including Osgiliath and Minas Morgul.

Ashlieth smiled slightly as she remembered her adventure all those months ago. It had been Meneldil's death that had spurred her to leave. When they had returned to her land with his broken body, she had flown into a panic and left, trying to either die or erase the memory of his body from her mind. She had never expected to live, and she had certainly not expected to fall in love... or be kidnapped by an obsessive Elf, but that was a different matter.

Walking over to the bathroom, Ashlieth looked skeptically at the drawn bath. Its warmth was inviting, it had been many a week since Ashlieth had a warm bath, yet she was pondering as whether or not to stink when she married Naurcom. Maybe he would call off the wedding or pass out due to her smell... no, she would be harming no one but herself.

Hygiene won, and Ashlieth stripped off and stepped into the warm bath, sighing as she sat down. Its heat soaked into her skin and relaxed her tense muscles. She sighed again, and lay down, wondering how she could stall Naurcom.

:::

The White City, its gleaming beauty was normally a pleasant sight for Rúmil, but not this day. He was still some time behind Naurcom, though he had gained considerably in the past few days.

"These tracks are fresh, we are no more than an hour behind." Legolas called out to Rúmil, and he nodded in agreement.

"Legolas, how long do you think it takes for a wedding to be completed?" Rúmil asked his friend.

"Very little time, I believe. Why?"

"Let us ride Legolas. I fear we do not have much time."

"Asca, Narwa, asca!"

Narwa snorted, then sprinted off, and they descended upon the White City.

:::

* * *

**Footnotes: **

Asca: hurry.

Chapter Five finished. Yay, wOOt and NARP! Thanks for waiting! General reviews are appreciated. Shout out to my friends at Deleterious! Hey guys! (Waves) Spork me if you want!

The reason that this chapter has taken so long to put up is because, due to a review I received, I realised that I had to correct some of my content. So I had to wipe out an entire chapter, and then completely redo this one. It took a very long time. Thank you for sticking it out!

**Reviewer Response: **

Hey Guys!

Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, you guys make the day brighter! Please remember to be as harsh as you want if you review, it makes it easier to write. (Note: Any resemblance of dying character to Flamer in the next chapter is purely coincidental!)

**Merry Lad! **Sigh, hearing from you makes it all worthwhile! So how are you going recently? It's been great getting reviews from you... btw, do you have any recommendations for any good stories? It's for my website (in my profile), we are dedicating a site to really good fanfiction, and we need some more! Oh, and sorry the chapter took so long!

**Crecy**: Nice to hear from you again! 84 pages... you review a lot, huh? I'm glad you found my chappie funny, although I doubt this one will be as funny. Much more serious. Anywho, I really loved your suggestion, I hit my head on the desk when I read it. If only I'd asked your opinion first... (headdesk). And again, sorry the update took so long!

**Android Jennifer:** Hiya! Nice to see you again! I'm glad you like that chapter, can you tell me what you think of Ash in this chapter? She is driving me insane... silly girl. Thanks for reviewing again!

**Arda-Thinlaithiel: **Wow, that's a name and a half! What a mouthful. Thanks for adding me to your fav's list, it means a lot to me! I'm really glad you are enjoying my story!

**Xkuroxshinobix:** Talking of mouthful names... dude, how does one pronounce that? I'm glad you like long chapters, I was afraid some wouldn't like it.

One more, it means a lot to me that you guys take the time to review. Thanks again for that!

- Just Curious


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